A Marriage of Convenience
by Boogum
Summary: When Ginny is invited to go stay with her godmother in London to have her first season in pureblood society, she never imagined being married to Draco Malfoy would be added to the bargain... /currently being revised/
1. The Letter

**The Letter **

Ginny stared at the letter in her hands, her chestnut eyes widening to the size of dinner plates before her mouth dropped open to form an audible gasp. She squeezed the parchment that had the flowing, elegant ink on it in a tight grasp and was soon racing down the hallway, bursting through the door into the bright sunlight where Molly Weasley was gardening.

"MUM!"

"Ginny, don't screech in my ear," scolded Molly, and turned to face her daughter. She eyed the flushed cheeks and excited brown eyes with faint misgiving. "What?"

Ginny practically bounced on her feet as she handed the letter to her mother. It was the letter she had been waiting for since she had turned nineteen three days ago, the same letter that her godmother had promised to write to her when the young redhead reached that specific age.

"Oh, it's from Celia," said Molly with a fond smile while still perusing the letter in her hand.

Celia Adderson was Molly's best friend and also Ginny's godmother. She had always been the one to give Ginny the nicest presents, and she had also promised to take Ginny into society as all pureblood girls did when they reached the age of nineteen since the Weasleys themselves were unable to afford the expense of it, let alone had the reputation for it. While most people called it the Marriage Mart, where all the young ladies found their prospective husbands, Ginny was more excited about the dances, wearing beautiful dresses, and eating food that only existed in her fantasies.

"She wants you to go stay with her in London to be there for the season," continued Molly, looking up to stare at her daughter with a broad smile on her face. "Oh, Ginny, dear, this is wonderful! You'll get to meet lots of nice young men as well as go to all the parties and balls." Her smile widened even more as a misty look came to her eyes. "I remember my first season. I met Arthur then, and he whirled me away in a forbidden romance. Of course my parents were very upset when we eloped, but it was worth it."

"Please, Mum," interposed Ginny, interrupting the reminiscing mood. "May I write back to her and say that I'm going?"

"Of course!" exclaimed Molly. "We'll have to start packing for you right away. She wants to come pick you up tomorrow." Her face flashed with a truly delighted smile, making her wrinkles stand out even more. "Oh, I'm all a flutter. I did hope Celia would do this for you. The boys can make their own way, but I hated for you to miss out on the greatest tradition a pureblood girl can have. Mind you, Ginny, there is one thing I must warn you about."

"And what's that?" asked Ginny, wondering what warning there could possibly be.

"If a wizard asks you to marry him, you will have to say yes. I find it unlikely that you will get chosen for obvious reasons—"

Ginny nodded, knowing that her lack of inheritance and reputation meant she would not be one of the favoured ones.

"But it's an old tradition that can't be broken. You will be magically bonded to that person as soon as they choose you. It was made during the days when purebloods were dying out. Everyone feared that blood purity would cease to exist so the leaders of society made a spell to force the young ones to marry. It still holds today, and they've carried on the tradition so just be wary. However, most of the wizards know what girls they are going to marry anyway so I doubt you will have any problems."

Ginny nodded seriously, but she, just like her mother, doubted that any wizard would choose her. She was a Weasley, for goodness sake.

"Well, I'm going to go write back," said Ginny, who practically skipped back up to her bedroom where she then pulled out a parchment and quill.

She tickled her face with the feather and bit her lip for a moment. Then she started to write:

_Dear Mrs Adderson,_

_Thank you so much for inviting me to come stay with you in London. Mum says I can go, so I__'__ll be ready for you whenever you choose to come pick me up tomorrow. I__'__m very excited to see you again, but I hope I won__'__t be too much of a hassle for you. _

_Love Ginny._

She then pulled out more parchment from her stack and started writing letters to all her friends, including Harry and Hermione, telling them all about how she was going to go to London and stay with her godmother. She was so excited that her ink was splashing everywhere and making the writing illegible, but she hoped that they still got the gist of it.

Once she was done, Ginny made her way downstairs and took a seat at the table, wishing that time would just go by faster so that she could hurry up and go to London. It was driving her insane having to wait when she knew that she would soon be dancing and drinking champagne while acting like a lady. It was going to be so wonderful. She could just tell already.

"What are you looking so pleased about?" asked Ron curiously, just seconds after Apparating into the house.

He had moved into a flat with Harry and was studying to be an Auror, along with Harry, but he still liked to come home for dinner every odd day of the week.

"Mrs Adderson has invited me to go to London and stay with her for the season. I get to go to London, Ron!" exclaimed Ginny, bouncing up and down on her chair.

"Don't wet yourself," Ron teased, making Ginny's cheeks flush with pink.

"I can't help it. I'm just so excited. We never get anything nice, and now I actually get to go into society. It's every girl's dream!"

"I don't see what's so great about it. All you do is waltz around in those silly dresses while being stuck with silly girls, and you have to talk to pompous idiots like Draco Malfoy. You know it'll just be a bunch of poncy old pansies dressed up like peacocks, all parading around."

"Well, maybe I want to be a peacock," huffed Ginny. "I'm not letting you ruin this for me, Ron, and I doubt Draco Malfoy will talk to me anyway. He'll have plenty of other girls to talk to."

"And what if they're all like him?" asked Ron, quirking an eyebrow as he leaned against the bench.

"They won't be," said Ginny firmly.

She hoped not, anyway. She had always dreamed of going to the society balls and meeting a handsome young man who would sweep her off her feet. Of course, he would be rich as well as charming.

"Well, you keep telling yourself that." Ron took a bite of the homemade bread in his hand, and then frowned at his sister. "So when are you going anyway?"

"Tomorrow, but I have no idea when. She's promised to take me shopping," said Ginny, giving a childish smile. "I'll actually be able to wear those dresses that we used to look at in the old magazines."

"You really will be a peacock then," laughed Ron. "Ah well, if that's what you like."

"It is," said Ginny firmly. "And I'm going to enjoy every moment of it."

**OOOO**

Dinner that night was an odd affair. Ron kept teasing Ginny about her upcoming London season, telling her some crusty old wizard with leery eyes was going to try propose to her, while Molly kept shushing him in between reminiscing about her own season in society. Arthur, alone, seemed to be the only one who was not raving on about the exciting news and was content to eat his dinner quietly. Ginny wondered what was wrong and, once dinner was over, she felt a faint feeling of misgiving when she saw her father beckoning for her to come into the lounge with him.

"Close the door behind you, Ginny," said her father tiredly, making Ginny feel even more anxious.

When she turned around, her father was already seated in his favourite chair, watching her through care-worn blue eyes. It had never really occurred to her just how old her father had begun to look.

"Come take a seat next to your old father," commanded Arthur gently, gesturing to the chair beside him.

Ginny sat down, brown eyes staring concernedly into his face as a slight frown formed on her lips. "Is there something you wanted to tell me, Dad?"

Arthur reached out and cupped her face with one hand, his eyes meeting hers. "Ginny, you're my only daughter. You've always been a good girl, if a little on the mischievous side, but you're still a good, dutiful girl."

The girl in question just stared at him, privately wondering where this was going. He wasn't going to stop her from going to London, was he? She inwardly shuddered at the thought. This was her dream, the only thing that she had always wanted, and now was he going to take that away from her?

"You've never been in society so you don't know what it's like," continued Arthur, quite oblivious to his daughter's unhappy thoughts. "The people there, they're not like us. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Dad, I'm sure my godmother will take care of me. Please don't say that I can't go."

"I wouldn't do that to you, Ginny," said Arthur, smiling kindly at her. "Just promise me that you will be true to yourself no matter what, and be careful of—"

"I know," Ginny interrupted with a small smile. "Be careful of wizards who want to marry me. Dad, I really don't think that anyone will even want to marry me. I'm Ginny Weasley."

She was just the girl who had always worn second-hand clothes at school. The ragbag, as Draco Malfoy had once rudely called her. Her body was nothing extraordinary, and neither was her face, though many people had told her she was pretty. It wasn't her features that made her stand out, though; it was the fiery spirit that seemed to shine out from within. In truth, however, Ginny Weasley was no more than a rather plain girl with freckles and red hair: trademarks of her Weasley name.

"Wizards can be unpredictable," sighed her father. "I don't want to have to give you up to anyone other than someone that you love."

"You don't have to worry, Dad. I'll be fine."

"I hope you're right."

Ginny just smiled and pulled her father into a hug. "Thank you for caring, Dad, but I really don't think that I'm going to be in any danger."

"I know, I know," said Arthur, chuckling. "But it's a father's right to be worried about his only daughter."

"Well, if that's the case, then it's a daughter's right to tell him that he needs to mind his own business," responded Ginny cheekily. She leaned in and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. "I love you, Dad, but I want to do this. Surely you understand?"

Arthur nodded his head. "I do, Ginny. I just can't believe my little girl is all grown up and about to go make her début in pureblood society."

Ginny smiled. "Well I am, and I hope you can be happy for me. I won't be able to enjoy myself if you're just fretting away here."

"I am happy for you," he said with his own smile. "Just remember what I said. Be true to yourself, Ginny. No matter what."

**OOOO**

Ginny let out a sigh as she lay on her bed later that night. Her eyes travelled around her room, staring at the shadowy outlines of her possessions that were lit up with the pale light of the moon. She knew that tomorrow she would be leaving all of this. It would be her first time leaving home.

She had been given a lot to think about after her talk with her father. Her excitement was still the same, but she couldn't deny that she was a little worried about how things were actually going to be. Why was he so afraid that she would change? Why was he so afraid anyway? It was just a few balls and parties, but he was acting like it was some life-changing thing that would tempt her to be something she wasn't. Surely he must know that she would never do that. She was always true to herself, and always had been.

"I'm not going to change. I'll still be me."

The words were said defiantly, but her mind was still filled with worry, not to mention she was slightly anxious at the thought that some wizard really might choose her. Her mum had discarded it, but her dad had seemed to think it was a very real possibility. Then again, he could just be making mountains out of molehills.

Ginny sighed again and rolled over in her bed. She decided then and there that there was no point worrying about it. She would just go to London and enjoy herself like she had planned to. Her father and Ron would soon see that there was no reason to worry about her. She would be perfectly fine and perfectly single when she came back, unless, of course, she did meet that handsome, rich, and charming fellow who would sweep her off her feet…

She smiled to herself and closed her eyes again, all worry slipping from her mind as much more pleasing thoughts occupied her brain. Tomorrow all her dreams would come true. She could only consider it a bonus if a handsome man, who would naturally fall in love with her at first sight, was added into the bargain.

* * *

**A/N: Just to establish some things before we get into the real story:**

**This fanfic is _not_ based in the Regency period. I have used many of the customs, costumes and manners of that period as a way to differentiate pureblood society from normal wizarding society, but the world itself is very much the modern one we are used to reading.**

**Before you ask, no I did not base this on Jane Austen's _Pride and Prejudice_. If any books can be said to have inspired me, it was Georgette Heyer's _Arabella_ and _The Convenient Marriage_, with the latter also inspiring me with the title of this fic. There are some scenes in this story that have a striking resemblance to scenes in those two books; however, that was entirely unintentional on my part, and the scenes I have written are still very much in my own words, so there should be no complaints there.**

**Other than that, if you have any further questions or would like me to clarify something, please feel free to ask.**


	2. Just Like a Fairytale

**Just Like a Fairytale **

The next morning had flown by so fast that Ginny was not sure whether it had even started at all. All too soon she was being handed the Portkey that would take her to her godmother's—Celia, herself, being unable to make it because of some unexpected business—and so the young redhead was able to make her goodbyes with all the tears the occasion deserved without fear of being frowned upon for her excessive sensibility.

Her mother certainly had no qualms about being perceived as overly sensitive. Mrs Weasley had hugged her daughter and given her a very watery kiss, telling her how much she would miss her 'baby', and that she was sure Ginny would have so much fun with her dear Celia. Mr Weasley had given her a hug of his own and assured the nervous damsel that she would be well looked after and to just enjoy herself. Ron had risen to the occasion by presenting her with a pretty pearl necklace he had bought for an old girlfriend (not that his sister was not to know that), which Ginny had exclaimed great appreciation over and hugged her brother tightly in thanks.

Now the redhead just beamed happily at her family, her eyes glowing with unstrained excitement as she waited for the Portkey to activate. She felt the magic hum in her fingers, feeling the warm jolts of energy slither through her blood, and then, as she took one last look at the family she so dearly loved, the magic activated, and she found herself spiralling through time and space to her godmother's home.

Ginny landed rather ungracefully onto a large expanse of grass, her hands still clutching the Portkey against her chest. She took in her surroundings with a curious air, only to have her eyes widen dramatically when they fell on the very grand home at the other end.

"Wow," was all that Ginny could muster.

She had not been expecting that. The house, or rather mansion, was made of rusty brick and seemed to glow in fiery, autumn shades with the evening sun, with flowers blooming along the veranda in vibrant bursts of colour. Ginny felt that the home appeared to smile at her, the windows and balconies shaping into an old man's face that seemed as good-natured as it was wise with history. She smiled to herself, not quite able to believe her luck. This was perfect!

Ginny had no bags (her belongings were being sent to the house later), and so she simply had to walk up to the beautiful old home and knock on the door. She had only waited a few seconds before the door was opened, and a neat little house-elf was smiling toothily up at her.

"You must be Miss Weasley! Please, come into the parlour and have some refreshments. Mistress Celia will not be long in her business."

"Thank you," said Ginny warmly, and followed the little house-elf into the house.

She gazed admiringly around her, noting the tasteful elegance with which Celia Adderson had decorated her home. Nothing was too ostentatious or over-bearing, allowing Ginny to feel at least some comfort. She was well out of her element in this home, but there was a welcoming feeling of warmth and happiness lingering in the very walls that put her at ease.

"In here, Miss."

Ginny entered the room through the door that the house-elf was holding open for her and smiled in pleasure. Everything was as it should be, with squishy chairs that looked very inviting, bright flowers encased in vases dotted around on the tables, and portraits of beautiful scenery adorning the pastel yellow walls.

"Please take a seat. I will inform the Mistress that you have arrived."

Ginny once more thanked the house-elf and took a seat on one of the cream-coloured chairs, letting out a deep sigh of contentment as she did so. Her eyes fell on the elegant table of refreshments where they lit up with a pleasure that only someone who had never had such food so readily at her fingertips could understand.

She popped one of the chocolate delicacies into her mouth, savouring the taste in ecstasy as her eyes closed, and a deeply satisfied smile came to her lips. She did not hear the door open, so enraptured was she by the delicious truffle, nor did she see the expression of deep puzzlement that the newcomer wore as he took in her appearance.

"And who are you?"

Ginny jumped in fright and opened her eyes in surprise, meeting the equally surprised blue eyes gazing right back at her. Even under all her fright and shock, she was still able to notice how very handsome the man before her was. He had jet-black hair that fell softly around his face and eyes of the deepest blue she had ever seen. His skin was quite tan from the sun, and there was a hint of good-humour lurking around his mouth that made her instantly attracted to him. It also helped that he was tall. Very tall.

"I'm sorry," said Ginny, blushing a little in embarrassment as she stood up to greet him. "I'm Ginny Weasley, Mrs Adderson's goddaughter."

Understanding seemed to fill the man's face, and his lips made an easy smile. "Ah, you must be the girl coming to stay with my mother."

Ginny blinked. She had no idea that her godmother had a son, let alone such a handsome one.

"Y-your mother?"

"Yes," responded the handsome young man, blue eyes dancing with light-hearted amusement, "and I obviously picked a good time to visit her now that I know such a beautiful girl as yourself is staying here."

Ginny felt her cheeks grow warm and knew that she must be blushing something awful. No one had ever complimented her like that, and the redhead in question found that she was not so against it.

She gave him a shy smile and peeped up at him through her lashes. "You're staying here too, then?"

He grinned at that. "Well, I admit I was not going to but after seeing you, how could I possibly leave?"

Ginny fidgeted with her hands, her cheeks warmer than ever. "Now you're just being silly."

"Not at all," came the smooth retort, and he moved a few step forward to take her hand lightly in his.

He placed a graceful kiss on the back of her hand, sending butterflies fluttering through her stomach, and then raised his dancing eyes back to hers.

"My name is Julian, by the way. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Ginny."

Before Ginny could answer this stunning declaration, a rather large woman entered the room and let out a loud shriek of joy, pending all further conversation between Julian and herself.

"My dear, look how much you've grown!"

Ginny only managed to give a nervous smile before she was enfolded in a very flowery embrace that nearly crushed her ribs. She was relieved when the smiley woman finally released her and held her at arms length to survey her critically.

"Aren't you just the sweetest thing!" cooed the woman happily. "That red hair is simply lovely and will be sure to make you stand out amongst those other insipid girls that all seem to want blonde hair. It is a shame you have so many freckles, but one cannot have everything, after all." Her eyes roamed Ginny's figure appreciatively. "You may not have the perfect figure, but it's good enough. I'm sure I can find dresses to set it off to advantage."

Ginny could only blink again as the woman rambled on. This woman, who was clearly her godmother, was not at all what she had expected. She always remembered Celia Adderson as a very sweet woman, but then perhaps that was just because the last Ginny had seen her was when she herself was only seven-years-old. Her mother had written letters to Celia over the years, but Ginny had not. Now faced with this modish, large, and rather over-bearing woman, she found herself feeling just a little overwhelmed, especially after Celia's odd appraisal of her. She was still unsure whether to be offended or grateful.

"Mother, let her breathe," interrupted Julian with a laugh. "You'll scare her off before she's even settled in."

"Nonsense," retorted Celia with a laugh of her own. "Ginny is perfectly fine."

Ginny didn't know if she agreed with that statement, but then Celia clasped the redhead's hands in her own and beamed kindly at her, giving Ginny at least some comfort that the woman wasn't completely insane.

"We're going to have so much fun, you and I," said Celia in gushing accents. "There's so much we have to do; what, with getting new dresses for you to wear, and your hair will have to be done stylishly as well. Oh, and we'll also have to hold a ball for you here and invite all the eligible bachelors—and the girls too, I suppose."

"Thank you, Mrs Adderson. I'm very much in your debt."

"Please, call me Celia. I always feel so old when people call me 'Mrs Adderson', and don't thank me, dear. I'm going to have the time of my life looking after you!"

"Seems like you too are going to be keeping yourselves thoroughly entertained," commented Julian with one of his easy smiles. "I hope you're going to save some time for me as well, Ginny. I do wish to further my acquaintance with you."

Ginny blushed faintly and gave him another of her shy smiles. "Of course."

Julian seemed satisfied by her answer and said he had to be going to finish up with some business. He gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek and then bowed gracefully to both women before leaving the room, his smiling eyes lingering on Ginny's face for just a moment as he shut the door.

"Oh, my word," exclaimed Celia, "he seems quite taken with you. What did you ever do to get him so interested? I declare he could barely keep his eyes off you."

Pink once more flooded Ginny's cheeks, but she felt just a little defensive at this judgement. She hadn't done anything to get Julian's attention. All she had been doing was eating chocolate truffles.

"I didn't do anything. I don't even understand why he would look at me. I'm sure there are plenty of prettier girls than me."

"Stuff!" said her godmother bluntly, promptly dismissing all those other pretty damsels. "Not one of them have hair as red as yours or eyes so strangely chestnut. My dear, you could be quite beautiful if you tried more. Though those freckles do make you look a tad too village maiden but never mind that. I shall make you a goddess. I must warn you though, dear," confided Celia, giving her hand a gentle pat. "Do not attach yourself to my son. I don't mean to slight your family, for Merlin knows how much I love dear Molly, but I have other plans for Julian. Now I know you're a sensible girl and won't take a pet at my words, and mark my words there will be plenty of other handsome men to turn your head."

Ginny felt just a little offended that Celia did not think she was good enough for her son, but she was far too excited at the prospect of being a goddess to complain, so she simply nodded her head and allowed the woman to babble on about society and all the things Ginny would be able to do. By the end of their discussion (which was several hours later), the redhead was feeling much more charitable towards her hostess and was quite excited at the prospect of going shopping the next day to get some dresses.

"And will they be just like the ones I see in the magazines?" asked that excitable damsel.

"Of course, dear!" said Celia airily, while leading her up to the room that had been prepared for her. "I'm not saving any expenses on you. Mind you, I don't want you to look like one of those tacky misses that wear the showiest clothes imaginable. You're going to be elegant, my dear, for it is simple elegance that shows true beauty."

Ginny drankin this wise wisdom and nodded her head, smiling gratefully at her godmother.

"I don't know how I would ever go about without you here to help me," confided Ginny naively. "Thank you so much for doing all of this for me."

"There now. You're a good girl, and I promised your mother that I would give you an enjoyable time here, and that's what I mean to do." Celia gave Ginny another one of her kind smiles and opened the door. "You just get some sleep now. Tippy will wake you up for breakfast tomorrow, and after that we will go shopping."

"I can't wait," confessed Ginny, eyes sparkling at the prospect.

"No, nor can I. It's been quite some time since I've been able to shop like this, and I know I will enjoy it thoroughly." Celia patted Ginny's hand and smiled again. "Good night, dear, and make sure you get plenty of sleep."

"I will, and good night!"

Ginny entered the room and shut the door behind her, her eyes immediately falling on the very large bed. She let out a small whoop of joy and jumped on the bed, looking nothing at all like the formal Miss she had been trying to be in Celia's parlour room, and every bit the young madcap that she was. A broad grin formed on her lips as she lay there, thinking about all that had happened that day and all that was yet to happen, but it was a much softer and smaller smile that slipped onto her face when she thought of Julian.

It would be too much to say that she thought herself in love with him, for even Ginny was not so naïve as to believe that it was possible to _really_ fall in love with someone at first sight, no matter how romantic it sounded in the books, but she did know that she was deeply attracted to him. He fit all the criteria of her perfect man. She knew that she would not be against seeing him again.

Ginny thought of Celia's warning, and the small sting of hurt rose once more at the thought that she was not good enough for her godmother's son. It would have been better for Celia to have said nothing on the matter for Ginny was just the kind of girl to take umbrage at such a remark and behave contrary to her godmother's wishes, if only out of spite. Worse than that, though, was the fact that Ginny was a true romantic, and she found that the thought having of a forbidden romance with Julian made him all the more alluring.

And so it was with that thought that Ginevra Weasley did not take heed of the helpful advice she had been given and, instead, occupied herself quite happily in imagining just what Julian was like until she fell fast asleep.

**OOOO**

The next morning Ginny was rather disappointed to find that Julian had already left before breakfast to do some business on his vineyard in Italy, but that he would be back later that night. The discovery that he normally lived in Italy only added to the attraction she had for him, and it was a while before she could stop her fantasies about living in the Tuscan sun with the handsome, dark-haired man.

"My dear, you really must stop this day-dreaming of yours," scolded Celia. "There is nothing so off-putting as a girl who is always staring into space."

"Sorry," mumbled Ginny in embarrassment.

"That's quite alright. Just try not to do it again."

Ginny nodded her head obediently and followed Celia down the crowded streets of Diagon Alley where they were shopping for new outfits. She already had a collection of dresses and jewellery to set her up for a lifetime, but Celia insisted that she needed a dress for every occasion, no matter how trivial it may seem. Ginny was not going to complain, and so both women chattered happily about colours, materials, and other such things that had always occupied a special place in Ginny's heart as they entered yet another shop.

Celia immediately went to the owner and told the dressmaker about Ginny's situation. Madam Duboir was very happy to create anything for the pretty damsel, and Ginny soon found herself standing on a dais while Madam Duboir pinned cloths around her to determine which colour and style of dress to make for the redhead.

"Does Mademoiselle like the dress of blue celestial, or would Mademoiselle prefer the yellow?"

Ginny was unsure, and since Celia thought that the dresses looked equally ravishing on her goddaughter, they ended up purchasing both, as well as a ball gown of deep green, a white, flowing dress that Ginny particularly liked, and a simple, strapless dress for casual occasions.

"Why don't you put the casual one on now, Ginny?" said Celia, giving the redhead a gentle push to the changing room. "You never know who you might see in town, and I want everyone to see how beautiful you are."

Ginny nodded excitedly. She had already been wishing she could change into one of the dresses for a long time now, and so she rushed into the changing room and put on the cream-coloured dress that would have been rather plain were it not for the pink flowers lining the material at the curve of her breasts. Her freckles did stand out against the soft fabric, but Ginny thought she had never seen herself look so pretty and was happy to find that she actually felt so.

Her confidence now thoroughly boosted, Ginny once more met up with Celia (who praised, rapturously, on how good Ginny looked in the dress), and both women left the shop very pleased with themselves and their purchases.

It was just as Ginny and Celia were about to enter a café to get some lunch when she first saw Draco Malfoy. He looked just the same as he always had when he was at school: snobbish and too proud for his own good. However, his shoulders were more defined now, and he had clearly grown into his pointy features that she had used to mock so much. She had once likened him to a rat in their school days, but there was nothing rat-like about Draco Malfoy's face anymore. In fact, one would almost be inclined to call him handsome, though he was nothing to Julian Adderson.

"Oh, goodness me, there's Draco Malfoy!" exclaimed Celia, having followed Ginny's gaze. "He's one that you want to get on your good side. Very powerful in society, his family is."

Ginny made a face at that, but lucky for her Celia did not see it, having been too busy waving energetically at Draco to get his attention. At once, realising what Celia was going to do, Ginny grabbed at the older woman's arm desperately.

"Oh, please don't call him over," implored the redhead, her cheeks going a light shade of pink.

She didn't doubt that Draco's wit would be just as cutting now as it was in their younger days, but it was too late. Draco had already noticed the two women and was now making his way over in what Ginny saw as some reluctance. He stopped in front of Mrs Adderson and gave her a polite nod, though Ginny could tell by the forced smile on his face that he did not particularly cherish her godmother. Somehow, she doubted that he liked anyone; he always had been such a disagreeable boy.

"Mrs Adderson," said Draco politely. "How nice to see you again—and in such health."

Celia laughed loudly and rapped his arm with her hand. "Now, Draco, don't take that distant tone with me. I've known you since you were in nappies, as you well know."

Ginny could almost see his mind mentally muttering 'unfortunately', and she would have giggled had it not been for the fact that his silvery-grey eyes had now fallen on her. She saw his pupils widen with mild shock and was unsure whether to feel glad he seemed surprised to see her or offended.

"This is my goddaughter, Ginevra Weasley," explained Celia. "She's staying with me throughout the season."

"We've met before," said Draco shortly, and abruptly turned his attention back to Celia.

"Oh, well then you will no doubt wish to catch up, and since I have just spotted Maria Cunningham over there, I'll leave you two young ones alone for a while. You don't mind, do you?"

Since Ginny found herself unable to express her feelings right now when faced with that confident smile, and Draco was obviously too polite to snub her in front of her godmother, both said nothing and watched as Celia scuttled over to her friend.

An awkward silence fell around the two. Ginny shifted uncomfortably as she stared at her hands, unsure what to do or say. She had barely talked to Draco Malfoy unless it was to exchange insults, and since it would be rather immature to do that now, she found herself quite at a loss.

"You're staying in London, then?" asked Draco, clearly deciding he would have to be the one to break the awkward silence.

"Yes."

"Oh."

More silence.

Ginny raised her eyes to his face and wondered what he was thinking. She was glad he had not said anything rude to her yet, but it was rather ridiculous to think that either of them could come up with a civil conversation that could last any longer than five seconds. She felt like she had to try though, and so shebravely decided to ask him a question.

"Um, how do you know Celia?"

He sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "She's friends with my mother. Old school friends, you know?"

Ginny nodded though privately thought it odd that Celia should be both her mother's friend and his mother's friend. It was a rather ironic coincidence, considering the circumstances their families were in.

"I take it she is the one bringing you out into society, then?"

"Yes," said Ginny. "My family couldn't afford it, so Celia offered to pay for it all."

She waited for the cutting remark about her family's poverty, but it never came. He simply nodded as if that were obvious, and glanced down the street to where Celia could be seen talking to a rosy-cheeked woman.

"How long do you think she's going to take?" asked Draco in some frustration.

"You don't have to stay, you know," pointed out Ginny. "I know you must be finding this as awkward as me, and I won't be offended if you want to leave. We never did get along at school, after all, and to be honest I have no idea what to say to you anyway, short of something that would make me look and sound rather undignified, forcing Celia to scold me."

Draco's eyes flicked back to her face in some amusement. Ginny was surprised to see a genuine smile on his mouth. She'd never thought she would see the day that Draco Malfoy would smile at her, and she could have fainted then and there at the sheer miracle of it all.

"You're certainly blunt, aren't you?" asked the blond.

Ginny shrugged. "I'm not going to pretend that I have perfect manners like all you lot seem to, and I'm just telling the truth. I really do have no idea what to say to you. I mean, think about it, Malfoy, the last time we probably spoke to each other involved petty insults and maybe a bat-bogey-hex on my part."

Draco laughed. "Most likely."

"Right, so how in Merlin's name are we supposed to have a decent conversation when all I can think about is how horrible you were in school, and, more than likely, you're thinking the same thing about me?"

"I don't know, but we seem to be doing all right."

Ginny shook her head sagely. "So you say now, but give us more time to get over the surprise of meeting each other again, and I promise you we will both be regretting half the things that come out of our mouths."

He seemed amused, not quite a smile lurking on his mouth, but before he could say anything Celia was back and beaming happily at the both of them.

"There now, Ginny, I've just invited Maria and her girls to the little party we're going to be having for your coming-out ball." Her beady brown eyes flickered to Draco, and she gave him a sharp poke in the arm. "I hope you're going to come. I plan to make Ginny quite the success, and goodness knows your attendance will make it all the more."

"I don't think she'll need me to be a success," replied Draco, much to Ginny's surprise, "but I will come if it will please you, Celia. I'm sure Mother will want to go, anyway."

"Then it's settled," declared Celia cheerfully.

Ginny was still staring at Draco in bewilderment, unable to determine whether he had been sarcastic or not with his strange comment, but he merely nodded to the both of them, excused himself politely, and then carried on his way to wherever it was he had been going to before Celia had hailed him over with her energetic waving.

"You two seemed to be getting along nicely," said Celia. "Where do you know each other from?"

"School," answered Ginny absently, still watching Draco's progress down the street in some confusion. She wasn't sure what to make of grown-up Draco.

"Well, be sure to further the relationship. He could make or break you, my dear, and you do not want to be seen as boring to Draco Malfoy."

Ginny's hackles raised at that. "Surely people could like me for just being me rather than whether Draco Malfoy finds me entertaining or not?"

"Ah, you're still so naïve, but never mind, dear," said Celia, patting Ginny's hand, something she seemed to do a lot of. "You'll soon learn."

Ginny didn't think she wanted to learn as it just seemed stupid, but she nodded her head all the same and followed Celia into the café, all thoughts of Draco Malfoy slipping from her mind in the face of such delicious food. What was a man to chocolate éclairs, after all? Or, at least, that was how Ginny was feeling after having her stomach protesting to her for the past half hour.

After they had finished their lunchandcompleted the last of their shopping in town, Ginny finally got to get her hair done. The hairdresser had wanted to cut Ginny's hair short, as was the fashion, but Celia had long decided to use that red hair to Ginny's full potential, and so she had insisted the length stay the same, but perhaps some layers would help give it some 'oomph'.

Ginny was quite content to let them decide everything, never been given the luxury of having professionals do anything with her hair, and once she saw the finished result, she was well-pleased with her decision not to interfere. There was not much difference, but Celia had been right in thinking that the layers would shape the redhead's face in a more complimentary way.

"Ah, now that looks lovely," praised Celia.

Ginny smiled and played with a few strands of her hair. "It does look nice, doesn't it?"

"Yes, and you are going to be simply beautiful once I get you ready for the ball. I can just tell you are going to be all the rage."

For someone who had never been seen as anything but just another Weasley, Ginny could not help the smile that came to her face or the excitement that flooded her at the prospect of the upcoming ball.

London was proving to be everything that she had dreamed it would be.


	3. Belle of the Ball

**Belle of the Ball **

The 'little party' turned out to be a very big party. In fact, as Ginny scanned the ridiculously long list of people invited, she thought it was going to be an enormous party. Not a single galleon had been considered for the extravagant ball. Celia was in her element, flittering about the house with her face wreathed in smiles, and commanding a whole army of house-elves to get things ready. Ginny, on the other hand, felt more overwhelmed than ever.

"My dear, what are you standing there for?" exclaimed Celia, her hands fastening on her ample hips. "You should be getting ready!"

Ginny's brow creased into a frown. "But the ball isn't until tonight."

"Yes, dear, but it will take hours for you to look perfect, and I want you to look perfect."

Ginny inwardly sighed and plodded back towards her room. She had quickly come to realise, much to her despair, that Celia Adderson took beauty and reputation very seriously. The redhead had already heard about the great storm that Celia herself had made in her society days, inspiring all the town beaus to fall in love with her and all the other débutantes to be jealous of her. Unfortunately, her godmother now expected Ginny to make the same impression, and so she was very stern on what the redhead could or could not do.

As tedious as it was to always have to monitor her behaviour and look nice, Ginny did appreciate what Celia was trying to do for her. It was just so hard to turn her back on who she was and pretend to be this 'perfect' girl with perfect manners. Ginny was not a simpering miss that battered her eyelashes and flirted over fans. She was blunt, honest, and often said the wrong thing.

A man's chest suddenly blocked her view, and Ginny stumbled backwards as she quickly slammed her feet into the stairs to stop herself from colliding into him. Strong hands grabbed at her waist, steadying her, and then she found herself being held very comfortably against said man's chest. She could smell the subtle scent of a spicy cologne and daringly lifted her eyes to her saviour's face. Julian's smiling blue eyes stared back down at her. Her cheeks instantly warmed in embarrassment.

"You should be more careful," scolded Julian gently, finally releasing her waist to give her some space.

Ginny privately thought that she'd risk breaking her neck a thousand more times if it meant that she got to be close to him again. It was very cosy being held against him. She would not mind making it a common occurrence.

"You okay?" asked the raven-haired man, completely oblivious to her thoughts.

Ginny nodded her head, the faint traces of a blush still visible on her cheeks. "Yes, thanks to you."

She cringed at her choice of words, especially at how dreamy and stupid they made her sound, but he didn't seem to mind. He just smiled and nodded his head before continuing down the stairs. The redhead let out a wistful sigh as she watched his retreating figure and placed a hand over her beating heart. Then she realised what she was doing and promptly let her hand fall back to her side.

"Merlin, I'm beginning to act and sound like one of those ridiculous heroines in those horrible romance novels," muttered Ginny to herself as she bit back a laugh at her own behaviour.

She put all further thoughts of men and clichéd heroines out of her mind and raced up the rest of the stairs to her room to subject herself to Tippy the house-elf's administrations. The elf was surprisingly good at doing make-up, and, after a rather short but serious debate on what Ginny should wear, they both agreed on a bright yellow dress with a white slip underneath.

The square neckline of the dress cut modestly enough across her breasts, which Ginny could only be thankful for as, no matter what Celia wanted, she would never wear anything that made her feel uncomfortable. The sleeves stopped just above her elbows, with white lace hanging elegantly down, and the dress itself flowed loosely to the floor. It was a simple dress, but it was an elegant one all the same.

The pearls that Ron had given her were wrapped around her throat, and the pearl earrings that Celia had bought for her slipped through her ears. Her hair was piled up in curls on top of her head with a few yellow lilies set expertly in her red hair, and, as Ginny looked at the finished product in the mirror, she thought that she had never seen herself look more beautiful.

She smiled in satisfaction at her reflection and smoothed down the soft fabric of her dress, unable to help herself from doing a small twirl. If only her family could see her now. She didn't think that they would even recognise her.

"I knew that dress would look ravishing on you!"

Ginny turned to see Celia standing at the door, admiring her in open approval. Her godmother was wearing a deep purple dress that cut low across her large bosoms with a black feather in her hair and gold jewellery to accessorise. She looked every bit the rich, magnificent woman that she was.

"It's beautiful," breathed Ginny, glancing back at her reflection in the mirror.

"My dear that dress would be nothing without the owner wearing it."

Celia winked at Ginny and then walked over towards her, holding what looked like a brown package in her hands.

"Molly sent you these. She obviously forgot to give them to you while she was dithering on about you coming to London. Dear thing."

Ginny took the parcel from Celia's hands and opened it to see a pair of long white gloves, as well as a pure diamond necklace and earrings to match, and a pretty ivory fan with flowers painted on it. Her hand found its way to her mouth and her eyes widened as she met Celia's gaze.

"I didn't even know that she had these!"

Celia's face broke into a warm smile. "Molly has a few things that she treasured from her society days. I'm sure that you'll put them to good use, and that fan can be used tonight, if you wish."

Ginny swallowed against the hard lump in her throat. These items were far more precious to her than any of the others that Celia had bought for her, and it made her heart reach out for the absent mother to whom they had once belonged to. She clutched them close to her chest, thinking of her mum and how beautiful the older redhead must have looked when she had worn them back in her society days. How Ginny wished her mum could be there right now to see her making her own way into pureblood society.

"There, love," admonished Celia gently, "don't cry. You'll ruin all your make-up."

Ginny shook her head in annoyance at herself, still sniffling and trying hard not to cry. "I'm sorry, Celia. I just miss her so much. I wish she could be here too."

"I know." Celia placed a hand under Ginny's chin and smiled gently. "Molly would be proud of you, as I am. Now you wipe away those tears and smile for all the guests waiting to meet you."

Ginny nodded again and forced a smile on her lips. She could not let her feelings get the better of her. Yes, she missed her mother, as she only could, but she was an adult now. She had to be strong and not cry.

"I'm okay now," said Ginny, carefully wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"That's a good girl."

Ginny placed the package down on the bed, although she kept the fan, and gathered her skirts in her hands. She then followed Celia out of the room and walked with her godmother down to the ballroom. Julian was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, looking very handsome indeed in black breeches, glossy boots, and a dark blue waistcoat that made his eyes stand out spectacularly. His hair fell softly around his face, and Ginny felt the mad urge to run her fingers through those silken strands and kiss those perfect lips of his.

"You look lovely, Mother," praised Julian, coming forward to kiss Celia on the cheek.

Celia laughed and told him that he should be directing his compliments to Ginny as this ball was for her.

Ginny felt her heart skip a beat when his handsome face turned towards her, and she couldn't help but note the appreciative gleam in his eyes.

"Beautiful," said Julian softly as he took her hand in his and placed a light kiss on it.

"Thank you," said Ginny in a small voice, her cheeks lightly glowing pink.

Julian's eyes twinkled with amusement. He linked her arm in his and led her down the rest of the stairs into the ballroom with Celia following in tow. They paused at the open doorway, the sounds of the guests' chatter and laughter bubbling out from within.

"I'll be in soon to help you," said Celia, and flittered off in the other direction.

"Where is she going?" asked Ginny, confused.

"My mother is probably going to tell Tippy to greet the late guests," explained Julian while leading her slowly down the hallway. "So I guess it befalls on me to look after you until she can find the time to do it herself. I hope you don't mind having my poor company for a while."

Ginny placed an impulsive hand on his arm. "Not at all. You are by far the nicest man I've ever met."

He smiled his easy smile and pinched her chin lazily with one finger. "You are easily pleased."

She blushed adorably and lowered her eyes, suddenly feeling very shy. "I'm just telling the truth. You and your mother have made me feel so welcome."

Julian merely smiled and then led her into the ballroom. Ginny felt her jaw drop. It was beautiful. The crystal chandeliers gleamed like thousands of stars in twilight. Elegant flower arrangements adorned pillars all around the room, and the marble white floors sparkled with polish, just waiting for the dancing to begin. The hired orchestra in the corner was playing some soft music, and most of the guests were already taking their positions around the great hall, some eyeing Ginny curiously.

"Do you like it?" asked Julian.

Ginny turned her face to his, her eyes lighting up with an excited glow. "I just can't believe I'm really here."

He laughed lightly. "You'd best start believing it then, because this ball is for you."

Ginny glanced around the grand room once more, a happy smile fastening on her lips. This really was all for her. She was no longer just another Weasley. She was finally reaching her dream.

"Why don't we have a drink while we wait for Mother?" suggested Julian.

Ginny nodded and allowed him to steer her off to the refreshment table. A glass of champagne was handed to her, which she stared at rather cautiously. She had never drunk champagne before and was unsure whether she would like it. She took the smallest of sips and her face immediately scrunched up in distaste. Ginny placed the glass back down, still with an expression of deep distaste lingering on her features, and only then did she notice the humour gleaming in Julian's eyes.

"What?" asked Ginny, if a little defensively.

"Is the champagne not to your taste?"

Ginny stared at the offending glass of drink. "To be honest, I think it's horrible."

"It does take a bit of getting used to," he admitted with a laugh. "Perhaps some lemonade will suit you better."

Ginny felt a little relieved at that. She didn't really want to be drinking anything alcoholic. The last thing she wanted was to be tipsy at her first ball.

She glanced around the ballroom where the guests were still filing in and was surprised to see an odd yet common pattern in the dress for almost each and every female. It surely must be her imagination, but it seemed as though nearly all of the girls were wearing silver dresses, and a great many of them also had blonde hair. Ginny couldn't help but wonder why, for many of the girls didn't suit the colour or the hair.

"Why are all those girls wearing silver dresses?" asked Ginny curiously.

Julian followed the direction of her gaze and smiled in amusement at the group of sliver-clad and blonde-haired woman.

"That would be because it is Draco Malfoy's favourite colour. He also has expressed a fondness for blonde-haired woman, so, naturally, all the girls have decided to try and catch his attention by wearing silver dresses and dying their hair blonde."

"How ridiculous," responded Ginny scathingly.

Draco may have been oddly polite to her the other day, but knowing that he had a whole flock of girls following his fancies made her feel far less charitable towards him. He was nothing special, and he certainly didn't deserve all the praise that he received. _She _would not be a sheep to his will, nor would she bow down to him.

"You do not like him?" asked Julian, watching her intently.

Ginny turned back to her companion, a rueful smile on her lips. "I've been told that I must be on my best behaviour around him and get him to approve of me so that people will like me. I just don't think I can. He's nothing but a spoilt brat, and even if he doesn't spout out immature rubbish to offend me like he used to at school, he still just seems to be a spoilt brat."

She cast a dark glance at the silver clad women and shook her head. "I will never be one of those women."

"Poor Malfoy," laughed Julian. "In your bad books already."

Ginny grinned and felt some relief that he was not angry with her for speaking her mind. Celia had told her that most men did not like a woman who had her own opinions and showed disdain for society's habits. Ginny did both.

"Here comes my mother," said Julian. "Don't let her boss you around too much."

"You're going?"

His easy smile came into play. "I have some friends to greet, though I would like it if you did me the honour in accepting my hand for a dance?"

"Of course."

The answer would not have been anything else. To dance with him, talk with him—whatever he wanted to do, she would gladly do it if it meant that she could spend more time with him. She was not sure if she loved him, having only known him for so short a time, but she did know that she was quickly falling for him. He had a way of making her heart beat a bit faster, of making her smile grow a bit larger. He somehow made everything seem a little bit more beautiful.

He bowed gracefully and once again kissed her hand, still with that same charming smile playing in his eyes. Celia walked over and said something to him that Ginny could not hear, but she saw Julian mutter something back in passing to his mother before he walked off towards a group of men.

"My dear," said Celia, turning her attention to Ginny, "you must not let Julian steal your attention the whole night. There are plenty of other young men around here, and you must not show too much of a liking for just one. It gives you a bad reputation."

Ginny didn't see the point in saying that she didn't care about her reputation as she knew that Celia would only throw her hands up in horror and probably scold her for hours. It had become apparent to the redhead that Celia was only a good companion when one was letting the rather overbearing woman get her way. Celia had been spoiled her whole life, thanks to her once incomparable beauty, and was inclined to view herself with a great deal of self-importance and worth. She was good-natured when it was convenient to be so and also very generous when it suited her, but Ginny did not doubt for a moment that crossing this pleasure-seeking woman would be a bad idea.

"Now then," said Celia, scouting the room for more _promising_ guests, "let's introduce you to some people."

Just in that moment the great doors to the ballroom opened and three people walked into the room looking very important indeed. Ginny had no difficulty in recognising the male of the group, his white-blond hair was enough to make him stand out from any crowd, and so it was with a rather critical gaze that Ginny appraised Draco Malfoy's appearance. She thought that his expression seemed too cold and aloof, and the black breeches and waistcoat that he had chosen to wear only added to the unapproachable aura surrounding him. She had to admit that he did look very good in his evening dress though. Elegance was certainly something that Draco Malfoy did not lack.

"Oh, my dear, your success has been assured now! He actually came, and so he should too. Narcissa and I go way back..."

Ginny ignored Celia's excited ramblings and instead turned her attention to Draco's companions. Both women had pale blonde hair and were very slender and graceful in their bearing. The elder one, who Ginny assumed must be Narcissa Malfoy, was wearing a dress of deep green that tastefully hugged her delicate curves. Her clear, blue eyes held a distinct hint of pride as she surveyed the room, and it was obvious that she was thinking that the company was a trifle below her. The woman on Draco's left appeared to be younger and wore a simple, white gown with silver trimmings. She also appeared unimpressed by the assembly and leaned towards Draco to say something in his ear with a derisive smile on her lips. Ginny watched Draco laugh at whatever the blonde had said before all three of them made their way towards her grandmother and herself.

Narcissa Malfoy's eyes flicked to the redhead for a moment, and Ginny was very aware that she was being assessed. She was surprised to see approval in the woman's eyes and wondered what she had done to deserve this proud woman's good opinion. Surely a Malfoy would not think kindly of a Weasley.

"This must be your goddaughter," stated Narcissa, and, without even waiting for an answer, she gave Ginny a cool smile. "You look a lot like your mother, Miss Weasley."

Ginny was unsure whether that was a compliment or not. Narcissa seemed to understand her hesitation and gave her a much more genuine smile.

"Whatever I may think of your mother's choice in a husband, I do not deny that she was a beautiful woman in her youth. Your mother and I were once good friends, but some people make bad choices..."

At another time, Ginny might have argued that it was Narcissa who had made the wrong choice in choosing a Death Eater for a husband, but Ginny knew better than to say that and simply smiled politely.

"Thank you, Mrs Malfoy."

"Pretty manners too," commented Narcissa. She glanced at Celia and nodded her head in approval. "I like her. She's not one of these insipid girls you are forever seeing everywhere, and she clearly has some style. Not like those ridiculous featherheads trying to adopt a fashion to turn my son's head."

Celia smiled broadly, lapping up all the compliments for Ginny as if it were directed to her. Ginny thought that in some odd way Celia really did think the compliments were to her, but maybe she was being too harsh. Her godmother had welcomed her and did treat her very well.

"Ginny does me great credit," gushed Celia. "Already, I have heard men expressing their wish to get to know her better. I see a grand marriage in the making."

"That's if they can look past her name."

Ginny turned at the snide voice and stared at the younger blonde woman, who turned out to be extremely beautiful up close. Her eyes were a deep shade of jade, reminding Ginny of a cat lazily watching its prey with the same expression of amused cruelty lingering in their acidic depths.

"Your remarks do you no credit, Alexia," reprimanded Narcissa coldly. "You forget your manners."

Alexia's pale cheeks lightly tinged with pink, but she said nothing in her defence. Ginny suddenly felt a lot more charitable towards the composed Mrs Malfoy and gave her a grateful smile. Narcissa did not return the sentiment and instead turned to Celia.

"I believe you have not met my niece before. I've been asked to marry her off to an English pureblood, as her parents desired, but there is a lamentable lack of decent men. Merlin knows that none of these families are good enough for a Malfoy anyway."

The elder blonde sounded very bored by the whole idea, a complete contrast to Celia's very excited exclamations in looking after Ginny. Alexia, herself, did not appear very enthused at the thought of being married to some Englishman, but Ginny thought she saw the girl give a wistful look at her cousin, who was currently looking very bored himself.

"To be sure, not all of them are up to scratch," replied Celia tentatively, "but there is no need to be despairing yet. Why, my own son has not found himself a wife yet, and he is perfectly respectable."

"Are you suggesting that I create an arrangement for my niece with your son?"

Narcissa's eyes flickered with amusement, and Ginny saw Celia shift uncomfortably under that cool gaze. Now she understood what those 'other plans' were.

"Not at all," responded Celia. "I was just using him as an example."

_Nice save_, thought Ginny with a twisted smile.

"Mother, perhaps Alexia and I may be excused?" interrupted Draco, before any more embarrassing topics could be brought up. "I believe the first waltz is starting up."

Narcissa turned her haughty gaze on her son. "You will be taking Miss Weasley's hand for the first waltz, Draco, as is your due."

Celia was positively wreathed in smiles at Narcissa's words. Alexia, on the other hand, looked like she had just swallowed something particularly nasty, and her cat-like eyes narrowed on Ginny in pure dislike.

"Of course," said Draco, and turned to offer his hand politely to Ginny. "May I have this dance?"

Their eyes met: his showing only a mask of politeness while hers smouldered with the deep burning of rebellion that was building inside her. She did not wish to dance with Draco Malfoy at all, but she knew that she had not much choice in the matter. Narcissa's commanding air was enough to make her feel trapped into accepting.

"Yes," said Ginny, finally.

She took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. He placed one hand lightly on her waist, the other clasping her hand, and then slowly guided her into the steps of the waltz. Ginny fumbled as she followed him around the floor, her eyes fixed on her feet as she tried to stop herself from stepping on his or, worse still, from tripping over.

"Is the floor really that fascinating?" asked the blond after a moment of silence.

Ginny sighed in frustration, narrowly avoiding stepping on his feet, and chanced a glance at his face as she did so.

"If you really must know," retorted the redhead frankly, "I'm trying not to trip over. I've never been a good dancer, and I can't do the waltz at all."

His mouth curled slightly into a smile. "Just relax and let me guide you. It'll be easier. I promise."

She gave him a suspicious glance but decided to listen to him all the same. It was soon made apparent to her that he had been right. Letting him have control of her movement with the hand he had on her waist allowed her to move much more gracefully, and soon she did not have to worry about tripping as her feet seemed to find their way all by themselves.

Rather than thank him for the advice that he had given her, she simply remained silent and continued to dance with him. Her eyes found Julian in the throng of people, dancing gracefully, as was expected, but not as gracefully as Draco—though she would never admit it. Julian was dancing with a pretty brunette that had rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes, and, judging by the happy smile on the girl's face, it was clear that they were enjoying each other's company.

Ginny shifted her eyes back to her partner, noting the lack of a sneer that normally occupied his face when he was around her. It was rather amusing to think what his reaction would have been had they been commanded to dance back at Hogwarts. He'd have probably hexed himself.

"You've changed, you know," said Ginny, finally. "I was just thinking that you and I dancing would have been a pure miracle back at Hogwarts. Even now I find it hard to believe that we are."

His eyes met hers with an unreadable expression. "It's called growing up, Weasley. Your family, of course, are still too low in connections for me to do more than nod to you in passing if I so wished, but I admit that I find myself curious about you. It seems that my mother has taken a liking to you as well, so I need have no fear in being seen as less for associating with you."

Whatever charitable thoughts Ginny may have felt for him vanished very quickly at those words. The pure arrogance that oozed off his tongue made her want to slap him, and the thoughtless insults about her family were enough to make her stop dancing with him then and there.

She tried very hard to keep her temper in check, allowing him to twirl her around in the dance, and then locked gazes with him once more.

"I suppose I should be honoured that you have so thoughtfully decided to associate with me?" asked Ginny in frigid accents. "After all, my connections are so low that a Malfoy like you must find it completely demeaning to lower yourself to my level."

"Naturally," agreed Draco, quite oblivious to the fact that her temper was rising with each second, "but I believe it is worth it. You're rather refreshing."

Ginny stopped dancing and stared at him with unrestrained anger, her eyes sparkling magnificently in her rage, and her chest rapidly rose and fell with the tide of emotions gathering inside her.

"Refreshing?" she repeated sharply.

"Yes." His eyes scornfully surveyed the rest of the room. "The other girls here are full of pretension and affectations. You're not like that. You're honest and true to yourself."

Ginny clenched her hands into small fists and tilted her chin defiantly. "I wonder you should say that when you are the most pretentious person here! You insult my family, actually tell me that I should be glad you noticed me, and then you scorn everyone else in the room because they bow down to you, as you expect them to do!"

His face flashed with surprise, and Ginny was deeply satisfied to see the anger creeping into his falsely polite eyes.

"You look surprised, yes," continued the redhead, "but you said yourself that I am honest and true to myself. I'm not going to bow down to you, Malfoy, and I won't play to your conceit. You want refreshing then find someone else, because nothing will prevail me to spend a moment longer in your puffed-up presence!"

Everyone started clapping, and it took Ginny a moment to realise that the waltz had finished. They both glared at each other for a moment before he gave her a stiff bow, and she gave him an equally stiff curtsey. The couples went off one-by-one, as was the code, and then Draco once more offered his arm to her. No lady was allowed to leave the dance floor unattended, after all.

"You would do well to remember, Miss_ Weasley_, that your credentials are not enough to save you from such outbursts," muttered Draco as he led her back towards her godmother. "If I chose to, I could break your whole reputation so that no man would look at you."

His voice was low and angry, holding a venom that Ginny didn't even know he had.

"Spiteful because you know it's the truth?" retorted Ginny with a fake smile for anyone who was watching. "Do your worst, Malfoy. You said yourself that I don't need you to be a success, and, frankly, I don't want your help."

His grip on her tightened until it was quite painful. She could feel the blood throbbing uncomfortably where the circulation was cut off and glared at him icily.

"Trying to rip my arm off now?"

He loosened his grip, much to her relief.

"Take comfort that I'm a gentleman," gritted out the blond. "Otherwise I would do more than that."

She raised an eyebrow archly. "I didn't know gentleman threatened females, but perhaps I'm wrong. My credentials and upbringing are so low, after all."

Draco said nothing and didn't say anything more until they were standing in front Celia's brightly smiling face. He then quickly made his excuses, gave her a curt nod, and made a frosty retreat, not once talking or even looking at Ginny for the rest of the night. Instead, he spent his time dancing with Alexia and talking with a few of his friends.

Ginny's enjoyment of the evening was sadly dampened after the episode with Malfoy. She did dance several more times and had great success with all the men that she had danced with. One man even went so far as to liken her to a sunflower on a rainy day, brightening all in its path, but as Ginny pointed out that sunflowers only really bloomed nicely when it was sunny, his compliment didn't take much effect in her brain.

She did enjoy her dance with Julian and, in the end, believed that to be the only highlight of the evening. He smiled and talked with her pleasantly, helping her mind to cool down and forget about the proud Malfoys, who had set her so much on end. After that dance, however, she was introduced to some girls who seemed determined to hate her. They had seen her dancing with Draco and were pettishly jealous, giving her angry glares and plastering false smiles on their painted faces.

And so it was with great relief that Ginny heard Celia say that she could go to bed if she wished. It seemed that society was indeed everything that Ron had said it would be: peacocks and pompous men. Still, she did have Julian to keep her company, and there were some nice people that she had met whom she was sure she could be a friend with.

Cheered with this thought, Ginny used her wand to blow out the candles and cuddled up in her blankets to go to sleep. Tomorrow was a new day and, thankfully, it would be one free from horrible blonds with over-large egos.


	4. Water Nymph

**Water Nymph**

After the ball, it seemed to Ginny that all she did was go to soirées, balls, picnics, and any other outing that society could conjure for her. Most of these functions were not deemed worthy enough for the Malfoys to attend, and so, much to the redhead's relief, she did not have to put up with Alexia's sneers, Draco's glares, or Narcissa Malfoy's stares. Instead, she associated with those whom Celia called the 'jolly bunch'. Maria Cunnigham's daughter, Katherine, or Kitty as she liked to be called, was included in this group. She had become a great friend of Ginny's and just so happened to be the rosy-cheeked brunette that Julian had been dancing with. Her older sister Charlotte, on the other hand, called such functions a frivolous waste of time and, as such, had taken a severe dislike to the redhead. For Ginny, the feeling was mutual.

Still, even with all the excitement that came with attending parties and soirées, Ginny found that she was rather glad to discover there were no pressing engagements for her to attend that day. She wasn't sure how people could survive the constant hustle and bustle of society life. She, personally, found it rather draining, and so it was with great delight that she decided to make the most of her free day by exploring the surrounding countryside of Adderson Manor. It would be a nice to take a break from everything and just spend a day with nature in quiet solitude.

Ginny donned a straw hat, picked up one of the apples from the table to keep her hunger at bay, and then left the house with all the jubilation of a child escaping the schoolroom. She knew that her godmother would scold her something dreadful if she saw her walking around the muddy grounds, but Ginny did enjoy being in the outdoors, and it seemed that she all she did now since coming into society was stay inside. Besides, the white gown that she was wearing was casual enough to walk around in.

She took in a deep breath of the fresh, country air perfumed with the scents of wild flowers and sun-dried grass. It reminded her of home, of the time when she would spend her days lying out on the fields while her mum baked biscuits, and her brothers played Quidditch far above her in the periwinkle skies. She never did get to join in their games, but she would always lie there on the silky grass, making daisy chains and staring up at the clouds endlessly chugging by, imagining stories and objects in their wispy, white faces. The shouts of teenage boys arguing above her would always interrupt her musings, and then she would turn to watch as her brothers played on their broomsticks and debated over the endless rules of Quidditch.

It was during those days that she got into Quidditch herself. Eventually the clouds and daisy chains became less interesting, and the game above her became all the more exciting. She would watch as her brothers sped past her in colourful blurs, and she would cheer them on in her usual role of spectator, until, one day, she learnt to break into the garden shed and began to practise how to play the game herself. In the end, she got quite good at it, but her time on the Gryffindor Quidditch team was short-lived. War made its ugly presence known, taking away all the fun things in life, and then she was forced to stay low while the battles had continued to be fought on around her.

Ginny had never been allowed to actually participate in the war except for those small moments when fighting had been inevitable. However, she would never forget the fear that had seized her heart when she saw a spell come too close to a loved one or the icy coldness that crept over her body when a masked face leered down at her. Those were the memories that relived as nightmares in her sleep, memories that she could only ever hope to forget.

But the war was over now, and Ginny was free to do what she wished. She could lie out in the fields, making daisy chains and interpreting clouds. She could play Quidditch and chase unsuspecting birds as she soared exultantly through the misty air on her broom. The world was hers to explore; life was hers to enjoy. And it was this knowledge that had the redhead smiling now as she clambered over a small wooden fence and leapt to the ground, her eyes fixed on the peaceful meadow in front of her. She could never have truly appreciated something like this before.

The faint sound of trickling water pricked her ears, and she paused to listen, hoping to discover where the gurgling whispers were coming from. She started towards a group of pine trees, hearing the bubbling laughter of the stream build louder with each step. She emerged from out of the shelter of the trees and couldn't help but smile at the picturesque scene that greeted her eyes. It was like a secret hideaway: the trees shielded the stream completely from view, at least from the vantage point of the manor, with wild flowers sprouting up and curling outward in colours of pastel, giving their own small beauty to the landscape.

The stream proved to be very clear and much deeper than she had originally thought it to be so that it was actually more of a small lake. It looked awfully inviting, and, since the day was a warm one, she decided that she wouldn't mind having a swim.

Ginny glanced about her surroundings, making sure that no one was around, but all she could see were more fields and trees. Her lips curled into a small smile, and she quickly pulled the hat off her head and undid the dress that she was wearing until she was only standing in her petticoat. It seemed a shame to get that wet too, so she pulled it off and then rushed into the stream. Her maidenly modesty did not approve of standing naked in an open field, trees for shelter or not.

She let out a deep sigh of contentment as she paddled about in the stream, feeling the sun tickle her bare flesh while the smooth water embraced her body in liquid silk. She had always loved swimming, and it was nice to know there was this little place where she could always come to if she wished.

There was a rustling sound in the bushes, but Ginny kept swimming, thinking that it was probably just a squirrel or something of a similar nature. When the rustling got louder, however, she began to feel slightly alarmed. She stared at her pile of clothes, which were, unfortunately, too far away for her to reach with ease. She then glanced back at the trees that were still rustling a little too suspiciously for her liking. That was when her ears finally seemed to register that the odd crunching noise she was hearing was not due to squirrels but footsteps, which were coming closer.

Ginny didn't know what to do. The last thing she wanted was to run and get dressed only to have someone see her completely naked, but she also knew that she would be trapped if she stayed in the water.

"Oh, no," whispered the redhead, hugging her breasts protectively so that whoever was coming would not see anything.

She couldn't even use her wand as she had left it back in her room. It had just seemed pointless to carry it around with her when she knew that she was not going to be doing anything that needed magic.

The branches rustled all the more fiercely, and Ginny caught a glimpse of finely made boots before her eyes darted up to see a familiar face with piercing grey eyes staring right back at her. It was Draco Malfoy, of course. Just her luck.

His eyebrows darted up in surprise, and she could tell by the way that he just stood there, gaping at her, that he was too shocked to do much else.

"Do you _mind_?" snapped Ginny.

She clutched her arms tighter across her naked breasts, not even realising that she was only making things worse. The water came just above her hips, and she knew that he was getting a very nice view of her body with all its flaws and beauty, her hair not even being able to cover it as it so often did in the romance novels since it was in a simple plait. Really, it was quite unfair that she didn't even get to look ethereally beautiful like a water nymph. Not that she wanted to be a nymph for Draco Malfoy.

"I'm sorry," muttered Draco, finally finding his voice, though his eyes struggled to leave the water-beaded body so openly bared to him.

Ginny could feel his gaze burning into her skin and felt her cheeks glow with intense shame. She probably looked like an over-ripe tomato right now. Of course, the smart thing to do would be to tell him to leave and be done with it, but the redhead was feeling rather stunned herself, and so it was a much different speech that came out of her mouth.

"What are you doing here anyway?"

The thought had been bothering her in amongst the embarrassment she felt in being caught naked, not to mention the fact that it had to be _him _of all people to catch her. It was just an improbable coincidence, really.

"I'm" – Draco swallowed hard and tugged on his collar in some awkwardness – "I'm here with my mother. She wishes to speak with you, so she asked me to come find you. Celia told me that you had gone for a walk so…"

He trailed off, and Ginny was surprised to see his cheeks faintly tinged with pink. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, fidgeting with his hands, and then his eyes finally left her face to dart around the trees in an almost nervous fashion.

Ginny realised that he was not going to go and appeared as though he actually expected to escort her back to the house, not that he deserved her company after that episode at the ball. Still, she knew that it was now up to her to fix this horribly embarrassing situation.

"I'm not getting out of this water with you just standing there," snapped the redhead. "Turn around!"

She glared at him sharply, daring him to defy her. He did not dare, and, once she was sure that he would not sneak a peep, she quickly got out of the water and slipped on her petticoat. The material clung to her damp body, but there was not much that she could do about that. She decided to forgo putting on the dress as she knew that it would only make her feel incredibly uncomfortable. There was nothing worse than wearing clothes when one was still wet.

"You can turn around now," grumbled Ginny, glaring at his back as she started undoing the plait in her hair.

Draco turned around, his eyes not quite meeting hers. It was obvious that he was feeling a little out of his element, and it served him right, too – creeping up on innocent girls like that. Didn't he have any manners at all? And to just stand there and stare at her? It was completely intolerable.

"Would you like my coat?" asked the blond quietly.

Ginny stared at him in surprise. A Malfoy offering a coat to a Weasley? Now that was something that you didn't see everyday. Then again, he did find her _refreshing. _She snickered slightly to herself then realised that he was staring at her weirdly, and so she glared at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," replied Draco stiffly, losing some of his awkwardness now that she was more fully clothed. "But unless you want to run around in a see-through petticoat, I think you should take my coat."

Ginny glanced down at herself and realised that he was, in fact, right. The water had made the sheer fabric go all the more sheer. She blushed angrily and stomped over to him, snatching the offered coat from his hands and not bothering to say thank you. It was his fault that she had to do this anyway.

Draco said nothing as Ginny put on the coat that felt as rich as its owner. It smelled like him too, though she couldn't quite place the scent, and she refused to admit that it did smell glorious, whatever it was. She gave him a mutinous glare, even though she knew that she should be grateful he had leant her his coat to protect her modesty.

She bent down to pick her dress and hat off the ground.

"Don't think this makes you in my good books," said Ginny tartly. "I still hate you, even if you did give me your coat."

He gave her an ironic smile and bowed his head. "Whatever you say, Weasley. I have no desire to be in your good books anyway."

The redhead felt quite at a loss what to say to that, and so she simply held her head high and stalked off towards the house as dignified as someone could after being caught naked in a stream. She could hear him following her at a much more casual pace, and she felt her temper rise at the thought of why this had to happen. Why did it have to be him? _Why_? She couldn't even run away from him to calm her embarrassment. Instead, she had to let him escort her back to the house so that his mother could talk to her.

Ginny suddenly froze, and her eyes lowered to the ground in confusion. Why would Narcissa Malfoy want to talk to her? She'd been so caught up in being furious with Draco that she had completely forgot about that little detail.

"Oh, Merlin, I have no luck," grumbled Ginny aloud.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. She glared waspishly back.

"Oh, yes, you may raise your eyebrow in that haughty manner of yours, but you're not the one going to go see your mother in nothing but a wet petticoat and your stupid coat. I look a mess; I feel horrible, and I just know that Celia will scold me for this."

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you decided to jump naked into a stream."

Her eyes narrowed darkly. She turned on her heel and stalked towards him, her rage radiating off her like a dark cloud. The very air around her seemed to crackle from the intensity of her frustration.

"If you" – she poked him hard in the chest – "hadn't decided to interrupt me, I wouldn't be in this mess! In fact, if you and your mother hadn't decided to come visit me, for Merlin knows why, I'd still be swimming in that stream, perfectly content!"

"Well, unfortunately, my mother seems to have taken it into her head that she must see you, and she gave me no choice but to come with her. I don't particularly take much enjoyment being in your company either, I hope you know."

"Really?" quipped Ginny, arching an eyebrow at him. "Because I specifically remember you saying that I was _so refreshing_."

His face drew into a scowl and once more the faint tinges of pink graced his cheeks.

"Yes, well, perhaps I'd just forgot how annoying you are."

She laughed scornfully. "How convenient for you. Well, you don't have to worry, Malfoy. I'll remind you as much as you like how very annoying I can be to someone like you."

She smiled sweetly and then flounced ahead, wicked pleasure dancing through her at the furious expression she had seen on his face. It served him right, too. She would never forgive him for what he had said to her that night. Even now it made her blood boil, inspiring her with the sudden desire to punch that haughty face of his until he couldn't form a sneer even if he had wished to.

Draco said nothing more to her on their trek back to the house, but he did hold the door open for her. His eyes did not meet hers, and Ginny gave no thanks. She doubted that he expected it from her anyway, and she knew that he was not holding the door for any other reason than that he was trained to do so.

No one was in the foyer, and she was just wondering if she would be able to sneak up to her room and get changed when the door to the parlour opened, and the two women that she had been dreading to see walked out.

"My, my," said Narcissa Malfoy in her cool voice, her piercing blue eyes taking in Ginny's dishevelled appearance with an unreadable expression on her face.

Ginny could feel herself blushing and tried to look as dignified as she could in the wet petticoat with Draco's coat on whilst holding her dress and hat in hand, her wet hair trailing about her waist.

"Child, are you insane?" exclaimed Celia, clapping a hand to her heaving bosom. "Please don't tell me that you have been wandering around the countryside in a wet petticoat. Why, I could practically see your whole body if it weren't for that coat!"

Ginny's blush spread across her cheeks. "Well … you see, I—"

She bit her lip and wondered what she could possibly say to make this situation not as bad as it looked. Narcissa's lifted eyebrow was making her feel distinctly uncomfortable, and she was sure that the woman had realised that the coat she was wearing belonged to her son. Somehow that made things all the more embarrassing.

"She fell into the stream."

Surprised, and reluctantly grateful, Ginny turned to look at Draco with wide eyes. Was he really sticking up for her, even after all that she had said to him? There had to be an ulterior motive behind this. Surely he would not help her like this for no reason? He was a Malfoy, for goodness' sake.

"And I suppose you rescued her?" asked Narcissa somewhat dryly, looking from Ginny to Draco with a gleam of amusement in her eyes.

The unimpressed expression that so frequently occupied her face had vanished. Instead, there was a faint hint of humour lurking in her smile.

"Something like that," replied Ginny, trying hard to keep her voice even.

Narcissa's expression was very disconcerting, and it seemed that her son was also feeling the disquieting effects of his mother's astute gaze. There seemed to be no lying to this woman, and Ginny had a feeling that Narcissa Malfoy already knew what had really happened.

"You poor dear, you must be miserably cold," exclaimed Celia. "Why don't you go have a bath? We'll wait for you in the parlour for when you're ready. Narcissa has a lovely proposal for you that I think you'll like to hear."

"Please, take your time, Ginevra. I am more than happy to wait," said Narcissa, and then turned to her son, beckoning him with one graceful wave of her hand. "Come, Draco. Tell me how you rescued our fair Miss Weasley."

Ginny watched them leave with a deep sigh of relief. Tippy then popped out in front of her and ordered her to get into the bath that was awaiting her. The redhead didn't even bother to think how the house-elf knew to have a bath ready and simply made her way to the bathroom, stripping off the cloak and wet petticoat once she got there, and hopped into the tub.

As she lay in the warm water, she wondered what it was that Narcissa Malfoy wished to speak to her about. Celia talked of a proposal, but she was not sure what that had meant. Obviously, Narcissa had a proposition for her, but what?

"Would Miss like some more rose oil?"

"No, I'm fine," said Ginny.

Tippy bowed and then left the room, allowing Ginny to finally relax and think about what had happened. She supposed it was decent of Draco to stand up for her like that, but it just went against every bone in her body to be grateful towards him. She would not apologise; she couldn't apologise. But he _had_ helped her…

"But why?" asked that confused damsel. "Why would he do that?"

She could come up with no plausible answer, and so it was a rather disgruntled redhead that got out of the bath and changed into the green gown that had been provided for her. She once more plaited her hair and then made her way back to the parlour. Voices floated up to her ears, and Ginny paused to listen to the conversation.

"She is very much like her mother," said an exuberant female whom Ginny knew must be her godmother. "The more I see of her, the more I feel that I'm looking at our dear Molly again. People are in absolute raptures over her!"

"Hrm," came Narcissa's much smoother voice. "She is like Molly but then Ginevra is perhaps not as beautiful. Undoubtedly, her red hair will always catch the eye, and that shade of chestnut in her eyes is, admittedly, quite attractive, but she is lacking in the striking beauty that Molly had, nor does she have the figure that her mother possessed."

"To be sure, but she is quite a pretty little thing all the same."

"What do you think, Draco?" asked Narcissa suddenly. "Does Ginevra gain your approval?"

Ginny didn't know why she took a sudden step forward to listen more intently, nor did she know why it was of such great interest to know just what he thought. Either way, she found herself unbearably curious to know his view on the matter.

"She is not as tall as one would hope, and her figure is neither fashionably thin nor is she curvaceous enough to let that fact slide. Her skin is too tan, her freckles too many. Her eyes, I suppose, are quite beautiful, but then that does not nearly make up for her lack of grace and posture. I would describe her as pretty at the most, but she certainly does not deserve the praise that she receives from society."

Ginny sat down on the step and stared at the floor, a dispirited frown on her face. She had always known that she was not as beautiful as the other girls, but to hear it so frankly stated in Draco Malfoy's drawling voice made it all the more worse.

"You are very harsh on the girl," commented Narcissa. "However, you are right. She is quite plain compared to the other débutantes, though I do think her style is excellent. Looks are nothing to someone with good style. Look at Marissa Hurst. She looks positively hideous no matter where she goes because she'll insist on wearing those awful colours that do no justice to her unique looks. If she would only wear colours that suited her then she'd be very beautiful."

"Quite right, Narcissa, but young girls these days hardly ever know what to wear. I'm quite blessed with Ginny, really. She doesn't seem to like the latest fashions at all and has a more simplistic taste, which I find very pleasing."

"Indeed."

Ginny decided then that she had heard enough. She stood up from the stairs and entered the room, her spirit feeling oddly shattered. She didn't think that she could handle hearing any more of their judgements on her looks or style, whether those judgements were good or bad.

"Ah, there you are, Ginny." Celia beamed and patted the seat next to her. "Come and take a seat."

Ginny quietly sat down. She could feel all their eyes on her, but it was Narcissa whose gaze she finally met. The woman seemed to command all attention and not just because of her great beauty.

"You had a proposal for me?" asked Ginny hesitantly, unsure whether she was supposed to say anything.

"Yes."

Narcissa smiled, and, for the first time, Ginny thought that it was not due to mocking amusement.

"I am inviting you to my home for a gathering that we are having. It will last for the week, and there will be plenty of activities to pass the time. I am inviting only a select few, many of whom you may already know. I think it would be a good opportunity for you."

Ginny didn't know what to say. This was the greatest honour that could ever be bestowed upon someone like her, and she didn't need Celia's broad smile to tell her so. She truly did rely on the grace of others. Though the redhead would never admit it, Draco had been right in saying that her connections were so low that most people did not need to do anything but bow to her in passing. But it seemed that Narcissa had taken a liking to her and, even if the son was detestable, Ginny found that she was oddly inclined to like the older woman. One couldn't help but smile at the blonde who seemed to disregard everyone but herself. Or maybe it was the fact that she had the nerve to do as she pleased and force society to obey her, even if they hated her. Either way, Ginny found herself liking the proud woman.

"Well?" prompted Narcissa. "Do you accept?"

"Accept, Ginny," whispered Celia fiercely, but Ginny did not need Celia's prompt.

"I'll come."

"Lovely," smiled Narcissa.

She looked pleased, but everyone in the room knew that she had been expecting Ginny to accept anyway. There was just no possible way to refuse the woman.

"You may tell Julian that he can come too," said Narcissa in a voice that suggested she was making a very gracious concession.

"Of course," responded Celia meekly.

Narcissa stood up, and Draco followed suit.

"Well, we must be going," said that coolly composed woman. "Until we meet again, Ginevra."

Ginny and Celia both inclined their heads as the Malfoys gracefully took their leave. Celia turned to her goddaughter once the door had shut behind mother and son.

"Well, what do you think of that?" asked Celia excitedly. "Narcissa certainly must think highly of you if she's inviting you to her home. Oh, just think of all the young men that will be there."

Ginny smiled wryly to herself. Yes, all of those men, but there was only one certain dark-haired, blue-eyed man that could catch her fancy.

**OOOO **

Draco paced up and down his room in agitation. Today had not gone at all how he had expected. When his mother had told him that they were going to Celia Adderson's manor, he had scowled at her and refused. In response, his mother had simply raised her eyebrow, and Draco had felt all the fight die in him then and there. People had always assumed that it was Lucius who ruled the roost, but his mother had a way of making everyone feel guilty for even daring to defy her. So Draco had gone, and he had regretted every moment of it.

"Dammit, just stop thinking about her!" growled the blond.

But he could not. He could recall very vividly how Ginny Weasley had looked in the water with her hair burning like fire and her skin gleaming with an almost taunting seductiveness. She may not have thought herself very much like an ethereal nymph, but Draco had not been able to keep his eyes off her.

And then she had put on that petticoat, which had might as well have been nothing at all with the way it had hugged her body so perfectly, not to mention how see-through it went because of her damp skin. He may have scoffed at her figure in the parlour, but he was still a man with very real emotions, and he could not deny how extremely attractive she had appeared to him in that moment.

Draco sighed for what seemed the hundredth time and ran an agitated hand through his already tousled hair as he cursed himself for his thoughts. She was just a stupid Weasley, a Weasley who didn't know her place and had the nerve to insult him! _He _would not let her play her silly games with him.

The door opened, and Draco turned quickly in surprise.

"Alexia?" said the blond with a frown. "What do you want?"

"Can I not talk to my cousin in his room?" asked Alexia innocently, a smile lurking on her lips.

Her green eyes were half-lidded in that lazy way that she had, deceptively hiding her mercenary nature.

"I suppose," replied Draco, watching her somewhat warily.

He knew what kind of girl Alexia was, and he also knew very well what her feelings for him were. The rest of his family may like to marry their cousins, but Draco was not one of them. Thankfully, his mother also seemed to abhor the tradition and did not encourage the relationship.

Alexia walked in and took a seat on the bed, her cat-like eyes watching him intently.

"I heard you and Aunt went to that detestable Celia Adderson's today. I suppose you saw that horrid freckled thing."

"If you mean Ginevra Weasley. Yes, I did see her," replied Draco somewhat dryly.

"Hmph. She won't last long in society. Everyone is raving on about her now, but soon they'll grow bored and realise what a common, vulgar thing she really is."

Draco said nothing. He didn't really want to hear Alexia's spiteful comments. Somehow they were not so funny any more.

"Where is Mrs Adderson's husband? I don't think I've seen him anywhere."

"He's dead," replied Draco shortly. "He was an elderly man when Celia married him. I'm sure you can figure out why she did."

Alexia laughed derisively. "I heard she's not even from a good family. How Aunt became friends with her, I do not know."

"Celia was best friends with Molly Weasley when they were at school together. Mother was Mrs Weasley's friend, and so she naturally ended up being friends with Celia too. Of course, once Celia married Devon Adderson and gained a very large inheritance, people stopped caring that she had no connections."

"I suppose that's what she's aiming for that Ginny girl to do. Imagine that. She calls herself Ginny." Alexia laughed again. "Only someone terribly common would label themselves something close to an alcoholic drink."

Again, Draco said nothing. He wished that Alexia would just go.

"Do you not agree, Cousin?"

"I think that she's not worth talking about."

Alexia gave a delighted laugh. "I knew that you would not be trapped by her as everyone else seems to be. You have so much more taste than that."

"Hrm," was all Draco replied.

He privately thought that Alexia had no idea. She was nothing but a silly, spiteful girl that would end up with an equally silly husband. She probably thought that he was in love with her, and, while there was no mistaking that Alexia was extremely beautiful, there was also no denying that she was completely rotten in the inside.

He thought of Ginny again and once more found himself faced with mixed feelings. On the one hand, she was charming in all her artlessness and raw honesty; on the other, she was extremely annoying by being rude and insulting. There was no winning with her, and soon he would be stuck with her for a whole week.


	5. To the Manor

**To the Manor**

Ginny bit into her honey-covered crumpet and gazed about the meadow in boredom. It was a sunny day, perfect for the proposed picnic, but while Ginny would have normally enjoyed being in the outdoors with her friends and eating nice food, Charlotte's presence rather ruined that enjoyment. The brunette, who proved to be indomitable in her tediousness, had had the happy thought of bringing along her favourite book to read to everyone. Of course, they should have realised that Charlotte's favourite book could only resemble a collection of sermons, and the effect it had on those present was drastic. Ginny could feel the energy sapping away from her with each unbearable second that passed as she listened to Charlotte's voice drone on and on around her like an annoying buzz of bees, lecturing about the importance of women staying pure and modest, or some such stuff.

Ginny glanced towards Kitty, who was trying—and failing—to stifle a yawn behind her hand, and she had to bite back a smile. The other girls who had accompanied them on the picnic were faring no better. They vainly tried to pay attention to the uplifting words being spoken, but their eyes would droop slightly as their heads dipped and bowed like a bunch of bobbing bottles in water. Maria and Celia could also be seen snoozing quite happily in their chairs some metres away, clearly having given up trying to listen to Charlotte's invigorating lectures a long time ago. Charlotte, however, was unmoved by their lack of attention, and continued to read as if her audience were completely enthralled by her words.

Kitty rolled her eyes, heartily sick of her sister's homily, and caught Ginny's eye as she did so.

"I'm so bored," mouthed Kitty.

Ginny nodded in agreement, knowing that she too could not stand much longer of Charlotte's favourite book. She cast her gaze about the collection of half-asleep girls and wondered if there was any way to escape. The other girls were unlikely to make a fuss, but Charlotte would definitely have something to say if she saw them leave. As it was, the prim brunette looked too engrossed in her book to notice much else around her—she certainly hadn't noticed that no one was listening.

Ginny shuffled closer to her vivacious friend. "Do you think Charlotte would notice if we went for a walk?"

"No, and I don't care if she does," said Kitty vehemently, casting an exasperated glare at her much more plainly dressed sister. "I refuse to listen to this bluestocking rubbish any longer!"

Ginny gave another wary glance at Charlotte, who was still reading monotonously from her book, and then she grinned mischievously at her friend.

"Let's go," said Ginny, her chestnut eyes dancing wickedly as she scrambled to her feet.

Kitty beamed in pleasure at the thought of escaping the dull lecture, and quickly followed suit. Some of the other girls, alerted by the movement, gave envious looks at their daring departure, but Ginny and Kitty were far too pleased with their own plan to give much thought to their more spiritless companions. They ran towards the far meadows, quite heedless to the rules of decorum that Charlotte had just been droning about. Once the girls were safely out of earshot, they burst into a fit of girlish giggles as they clutched each other for support, unable to help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Ginny held her stomach as she tried to stop the laughter that bubbled out of her mouth. "Can you believe she actually expected us to listen to that? I don't know how the other girls possibly managed it."

"I know!" giggled Kitty. "I've never heard anything more ridiculous!"

"Now, now, Kitty," said Ginny, plastering a serious expression on her face, though her dancing eyes belied the primness of her lips. "You must take heed of Charlotte's words and not read any more romance novels, for they will only corrupt the mind and make one want to elope and lose all maidenly modesty in clandestine affairs."

Kitty dramatically placed her hand over heart. "Oh, will you not save me, wise Ginny, from my helpless addiction to romance, and help me to be a pure, modest woman of unromantic thoughts? Only think that it might make me actually want to fall in love! The horror!"

Ginny giggled again and collapsed on the grass in a very unladylike manner, not even bothering to cover her legs where the dress had flown up. She brushed her fingers against the wild flowers beside her face, and glanced up at Kitty with a wry smile.

"Do you think they actually believe that stuff?"

Kitty shrugged and pulled off her straw hat to fix up her dusky curls. "I know Charlotte does. She would never dream of reading anything that mentions romance. She believes in duty only, and she is forever telling me that I must stop this incessant dreaming of love and adventure. They all want me to make a respectable marriage."

"How boring," commented Ginny. "I could never marry for duty. There's just no passion or anything."

Kitty, satisfied that her hair still looked nice, sat down on the grass next to Ginny and began to fiddle with the pink ribbons on her dress. She was quiet for a moment, and Ginny chanced a glance at her to see a frown on the normally cheery girl's face.

"What's wrong, Kitty?"

Kitty stared at a bumblebee buzzing busily by them, watching it as it danced across the daisies to collect the precious nectar. She let out a small sigh and tore her eyes away from the little bumblebee to stare at her hands instead.

"Mama wants me to marry Theodore Nott."

Ginny sat up straighter and stared at her friend in alarm. Kitty had never mentioned anything of this before.

"And do you want to marry him?"

"No," said Kitty, shaking her head. "He's so quiet, and when he does talk it's about things that I don't understand at all, and then I feel quite stupid. I'm not like you, Ginny. I can't keep up with intellectual conversation." She tugged at one of the daisies and savagely ripped the pale white petals off the flower. "I'm just a silly girl."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Ginny impatiently.

She knew Kitty was perhaps not as intelligent as the other girls, but she was a good person, and she could always bring a smile to anyone's face.

"It's true," insisted Kitty, casting a helpless expression Ginny's way. "I was always terrible at school, and even Papa says that I cannot grasp anything that is not to do with fashion or gossip. Mama wants me to try to sober myself—that's why she always makes Charlotte accompany me now, because she says that Mr Nott doesn't like a girl who only lives for pleasure."

Ginny scrunched her face up in distaste. "Well, I don't think Theodore Nott sounds like the man for you."

Whoever heard of such nonsense? How could Maria Cunningham think someone as serious as Theodore Nott could possibly be a good match for someone as frivolous as Kitty? Her papa was right; she was only interested in fashion and gossip, and, while Kitty was a dear friend of hers, even Ginny sometimes wished that Kitty could give a bit more stimulating conversation.

"Well, it doesn't matter if he and I suit or not," said Kitty heavily. "Mama wants it to be so, and Papa has agreed as he always does."

"And what does Mr Nott think of this?"

Ginny did not know Theodore Nott at all, but she did remember the brooding Slytherin quite clearly from her school days. He had always been rather quiet and was often seen skulking around the library. She couldn't see him taking much interest in Kitty Cunningham, but, then again, stranger things had happened before.

"I don't know," confessed Kitty with a sigh. "I do wish that he will refuse though. I don't think I could ever love him."

Both girls fell silent, each lost in their own troubled thoughts. For Ginny, this was the first time she had ever really had to face the idea that some people were not blessed with being able to marry for love. It just seemed so old fashioned to her, and yet she knew that Kitty's fears were indeed real. Her friend very well could be forced to marry Theodore Nott, and there would be nothing she could do about it. Pureblood society did not care about romance and love; it was duty and upholding the family honour that mattered. If Ginny were younger, no doubt she would have encouraged Kitty to run away and do what she wanted, but Ginny was older now and more mature. She understood that real life was not like the fairytales, and running away was not always an option.

Ginny realised, then, how truly lucky she was to have the parents that she did. She would never have to face the decision of having to choose between her family and her love. She was free to do as she wished...

Ginny suddenly felt very humbled. All that time she had complained about her family's situation, bemoaning the fact that they were poor and looked down upon. How ungrateful had she been? She could be a friend with whomever she liked, love whomever she wished. She was not expected to make a grand marriage, nor was she expected to dress and act a certain way. She could simply be herself. Her family may not be the most powerful, respectable, and definitely not the wealthiest, but she realised now how truly blessed she was to have been born into such a family—a family that loved her and cared enough about her well-being to let her do as she pleased.

"Is there nothing you can do?" asked Ginny quietly, though she was not really sure what could be done in such a situation. She'd never had to think about such things before.

Kitty shrugged and twisted her lips in frustration. "I thought about going to talk to him and telling him how I feel, but I'm just too scared. He… he frightens me."

The brunette looked down in embarrassment, tugging once more at the daisies and scattering the petals. A collection of snowy flakes surrounded her, and Ginny realised that her friend was on edge. She didn't understand why though. What was there to be so scared of?

"Why?" asked Ginny. "It's just Theodore Nott. It's not like he can eat you."

"But he's so serious," exclaimed Kitty despairingly. "And he gives me these looks that make me feel so nervous, not to mention how powerful he is in society. He's part of the Malfoy crowd, and he is so much more above me. I just couldn't. I can't even bear talking to him, and whenever he comes over to visit me, Mama will insist on leaving us alone in the room, and it's just so _awkward_!"

Ginny frowned. It seemed to her that Kitty was very much in awe of the serious ex-Slytherin. She herself knew that if she were in the same situation, she'd have no qualms with telling Theodore Nott that she did not like him, but Kitty had lived in this society her whole life. Mischievous and pleasure-seeking she may be, but Kitty was still droned into believing that she had to do everything her parents said, and she was very much brainwashed into believing that those with more money than her were more powerful.

"Well, I suppose talking to him is out of the question then," said Ginny with a sigh, not really sure what she could do to help her rosy-cheeked friend.

"Aren't you going to the Malfoys' home tomorrow?" asked Kitty suddenly, looking at her earnestly through big blue eyes.

Ginny could see the hope creeping into her friend's face and wondered what could possibly have caused this change.

"Yes."

"Could _you_ talk to him for me?"

"You want me to talk to him for you?" repeated Ginny, quite confused.

Kitty nodded eagerly. "Could you, please? He'll be there for certain, and I'm sure he'd listen to you."

Ginny supposed that she could, and she was sure the quiet Slytherin would indeed be at the Malfoys' home, but whether he would listen to her was another matter entirely.

She glanced back at Kitty, seeing the hope and reliance in her friend's eyes.

"Yeah," said Ginny. "I'll talk to him for you."

"Oh, thank you!"

Kitty leapt at Ginny and gave her a crushing hug, causing the redhead to let out a breathless laugh as they both fell back against the grass.

"What have we here?" mused a male voice from somewhere above them.

Ginny glanced up to see a man standing before them, his tall frame half-blocking the sun. She placed her hand over her eyes to shield her view from the blinding light and found herself meeting a familiar handsome face.

"Julian!" exclaimed Kitty with a giggle as she scrambled up off the ground and gave the dark-haired man a playful jab in the ribs. "What are you doing sneaking up on us like that? You're not supposed to be around here, you know? This is for ladies only."

"Well, do point them out to me if you see them," said Julian teasingly, earning another playful slap on his arm.

His eyes fell on Ginny, who was feeling a little weak-kneed right now by the intense expression that she could see in those divinely blue eyes. She could only be grateful that she was not standing, though if she had realised what kind of image she was presenting to him, she may have reconsidered that thought.

She was lying on her side, propped up by her elbow, with one leg flat against the grass while the other was curved, though still upright, allowing her skirts to reveal smooth, creamy legs and the barest hint of a silk petticoat. Her red hair was tumbling out of its bun and falling in loose curls around her face, and anyone of a romantic mind would have been able to turn a pretty phrase at the innocent yet seductive picture she created. Ginny, however, thought she just looked the same as she always did, though maybe a bit more dishevelled from running around with Kitty.

"_La mia bella incantatrice_," murmured Julian softly, reaching down a hand to help her up.

Ginny had no idea what he had said, but it sounded nice, and she had a feeling that it was meant to be a compliment, judging by the smile on his lips and the warm glow in his eyes.

She took his hand and found herself being pulled up with surprising ease to her feet. She glanced at his strong arms, unable to help but wonder what he would look like without all those fine clothes. Realising what she was doing, she blushed and quickly looked away. It was a good thing no one knew Legilimency here. At least, she hoped they didn't.

Julian was still holding her hand, and, bidden by that warm touch, she raised her eyes to meet his face, feeling her heart pounding in her chest as she noticed that he was still staring at her with that hot intensity. The smile on his face was not the easy-humour one he normally wore; there was something passionate about it, something that made her body rush with excitement and draw inexplicably closer to the handsome man before her.

"When you two are done staring at each other..."

Julian abruptly dropped her hand, and Ginny glanced at Kitty, who was watching them both with a knowing smile on her lips. The redhead did not like the sly gleam in her friend's eyes, and she knew that Kitty was easily putting two and two together.

"My mother would not happen to be around here by any chance?" asked Julian, if a little awkwardly.

His hands kept fidgeting by his sides, and there was a certain edginess in his bearing that suggested he very much wanted to get away from both girls to cool his thoughts. Ginny thought it rather cute, and felt a small sense of triumph that she had created such emotions in him.

"Yes," answered Kitty, still with that same knowing smile.

Ginny gave her friend a sharp glare. Kitty seemed to take the hint, for her expression became less mischievous, and she gestured towards the meadow where the reading was still going on.

"She's snoring with my mother over there."

"Thank you."

Julian bowed his head quickly to both girls and then started walking towards where Kitty had pointed.

Ginny took an impulsive step forward. "Will you be coming to dinner tonight, Julian?"

He stopped in mid-walk and turned around, the ready smile coming to his lips that she loved so dearly.

"For you, Ginny, I will be there."

Ginny couldn't stop the small smile that settled on her lips. Yes, she was indeed fast falling for him, and as she watched him continue on his way, her smile only grew until she seemed to glow with happiness.

Kitty walked over and gave her a teasing nudge. "Well, well, it seems like you two have been busy. He could not keep his eyes off you, and I do believe you couldn't keep yours off him either."

Ginny's cheeks blossomed with pink, and she looked away in embarrassment, not quite able to meet her friend's eyes. She was a strong and spirited young woman, but when it came to romance, she was still just like any other girl experiencing her first love. She too had to face the bashful awkwardness of trying to explore her new feelings while hiding blushing smiles at the compliments and questions people threw her way, just as she had to suffer the confusion and unbearable longing. She was, in short, still tender and inexperienced in love, and the feelings that she felt for Julian were just as frightening to her as they were wonderful.

Kitty watched her closely. "Do you like him, Ginny?"

"Yes," confessed Ginny quietly.

She looked out towards where she had last seen Julian, the smallest of smiles gracing her lips as she thought of the charming and handsome man that had so easily snatched her heart.

"Yes, I think I do."

**OOOO**

Dinner that night was an interesting affair. Ginny seemed to forget she was supposed to be eating her soup and constantly found her eyes straying to the handsome, dark-haired man opposite her. Unfortunately, she made the mistake of not noticing that Celia was talking to her and was promptly scolded for her daydreaming. Ginny, however, found that it was worth it when Julian shared a secret smile with her across the table.

She spooned another mouthful of soup into her mouth, still stealing surreptitious glances at the man opposite her. He was older than she, though she was unsure exactly how much older. He couldn't be too old though. She figured that he must be twenty-six at the most, for he still held glimpses of the youthfulness so easily seen in the younger men like Draco Malfoy. Of course, the fact that he was older only made her feel even more pleased that he was showing attention to her—she, who was only nineteen and had no fortune or connections to give an incentive for a handsome man like Julian to even consider looking her way. It only proved how wonderful he was, and that he cared about her for her own merits and not because of anything else.

Ginny inwardly gave a wistful sigh, wondering what could happen between them now. It was clear that he liked her, and she couldn't help but feel a bubble of excitement at the thought of being whirled into a romance with him. Would Celia be angry if she found out? Would Julian be forced to protect her from his own mother? Would they elope just like her own parents did?

Such were the thoughts that raced through her over-imaginative brain throughout the dinner, steadily becoming more and more fantastical as the night wore on. She barely listened to the idle chitchat between Celia and Julian, not even paying attention as they talked about what it would be like at Malfoy Manor, where Ginny would be going tomorrow. All she could think about was Julian; all she wanted to think about was Julian, and when dinner and dessert were over and she was informed that it was time to withdraw to the private room, Ginny found herself so caught up in thoughts of said man that she barely realised she had stood up, followed, and had taken a seat.

"Now, Ginny," said Celia, "please remember to try and follow all the instructions I gave you."

Ginny finally snapped out of her reverie and realised that Celia was staring at her suspiciously again, clearly having noticed that she had once again been daydreaming.

"Sorry?" asked Ginny.

Celia repeated herself, looking somewhat disgruntled that Ginny was not paying attention.

Ginny could only sigh. She'd already been instructed in all the etiquette and social decorum that she was supposed to display (and had promptly forgot it), and Celia had spent hours drilling it into her head that she was not to say anything rude about the Malfoys, their guests, or to talk to the house elves as she so liked to do.

"Yes," said Ginny. "I remember."

"Good girl. Remember, your very future could rely on this. They'll be plenty of handsome, rich men there, and wouldn't it be lovely to return to your mother with a man on your arm?"

Ginny thought it would indeed be lovely, but she'd much prefer the handsome man sitting next to her than anyone else at the party.

**OOOOO**

Tippy the House Elf woke Ginny up early the next day, and the whole morning was spent with Celia trying to decide which dresses to take, which jewellery to wear, and which men Ginny should make a point of talking to. Celia assured her that Narcissa would look after her well, considering there would be quite a few people Ginny did not know there, and she also said that Julian would be there for the first few days to help her settle in before he had to go back to Italy. Ginny found much more comfort in the latter, but she was sad to hear that Julian would not be with her the entire time.

"There now," said Celia with a broad smile as she packed away the last of Ginny's dresses. "You'll be fine, and I know they'll love you."

Ginny simply nodded. She was feeling just a little nervous now that she realised she was actually going to spend a week at the Malfoys' home. Somehow, it hadn't seemed so daunting when she had first accepted the offer, but, now, when she actually thought about it, she realised that these were the people who did not pay her any attention at the parties, and who would not spare her feelings for Celia's sake. Still, she would be strong and not let her nerves show, and she would have Julian for a little while at least.

Tippy popped in again, giving them both a quick bow. "Master Julian wishes to tell you, Mistresses, that he has been called away on urgent business and will not be able to go to the Malfoys' today, but that he will try to get there tomorrow."

Celia sighed. "Very well. Thank you, Tippy."

"Tippy must also tell Mistress that a message from Malfoy Manor came, requesting that Miss Ginny come to the manor early for a light meal with the lady of the house."

Ginny felt her stomach plummet. Julian would not be there to accompany her, and now she was being asked to go and have lunch with Narcissa Malfoy, who always made her feel just that little bit uncomfortable because of the scrutinising gaze the woman so often gave her. She did hope that sour-faced Alexia would not be there too. That would just be awful.

"Well, you must accept of course," said Celia, turning her attention to the redhead beside her. "Goodness, Narcissa has certainly taken a liking to you, Ginny. I don't think she's ever marked such open attention to any young lady. I do wonder why…"

Ginny couldn't even feel it in herself to be offended at Celia's thoughtless musings, knowing full well that Celia's confusion stemmed from the fact that Ginny had such low connections and therefore could not possibly be of interest to someone like Narcissa Malfoy. It would be rather hypocritical anyway, for she also wondered why Narcissa seemed to be interested in her so much. She figured it was probably because her mother had been a friend of the haughty woman back in their younger days.

"Did the message say what time, Tippy?" asked Ginny, creasing her brow.

"Now, if Miss were ready. A Portkey has been provided."

Ginny nodded. "I'm ready."

"Very well then, dear," said Celia, smiling. "I'll send your luggage over to the house with the house elves, so you don't have to worry about that, and you can take the Portkey over now."

Tippy handed her the Portkey, which was a simple wooden box. Ginny held the transportation device in her hands, feeling the smooth wood under her fingers. Suddenly, she felt the familiar pull at her navel, telling her that the magic had activated. She opened her eyes and stared about an unfamiliar room that seemed to be a gaming room, judging by the tables where cards could be played and the billiards table in the middle.

She frowned to herself and wondered where on earth she was. There was no one in the room to tell her either. Sighing and wondering if they had perhaps got the place wrong, Ginny left the room and was greeted by a very magnificently designed hallway, carpeted in rich red velvet with large, ornate windows looking out into some of the most beautiful grounds she had ever seen. Jade hedges stretched proudly into the sky, forming intricate patterns and walkways, and a large fountain could be seen in the centre, trickling merrily away to itself. She was amused to see white peacocks wandering around the immaculately kept grounds, knowing that Ron would have a ball in making up new names for Draco if he knew that peacocks actually did live at his rival's home.

Ginny cast a glance down both ends of the hallway and decided to take the route to the right. She opened the mahogany door to see an entrance hall that almost rivalled Hogwarts Castle, with marble stairs leading down on both sides to the spacious room that was surprisingly empty in its decorations. She looked up, amazed at how high the ceiling was, and noticed the beautiful painting of the heavens that had been designed on the white marble where angels and cherubims floated through a land of clouds and bruised sunsets set by glittering stars.

The door to the grounds opened, and two men walked in, one of which she had no trouble in recognising. His blond hair was tousled from the wind, and his grey eyes stared at her in open surprise, softening his normally formidable expression. His companion was also blond and grey-eyed, though he was shorter than the other blond by a head. Ginny was struck by how similar the two looked, standing side-by-side like that, but Draco had the more piercing features while his companion was much more easier on the eye.

Ginny wondered if Draco knew that his mother had invited her to come earlier to the manor, but, judging by the faint frown on his face, she doubted that he did. She suddenly felt driven to explain why she was standing in his house.

"Your mother invited me to have afternoon tea with her," explained Ginny, if a little awkwardly.

"I see," was all Draco said, his expression impassive.

His companion muttered something to him, and Ginny watched with some amusement as Draco cast the shorter man an exasperated glance and mutter something back. They seemed to be having a small, quiet argument, and then, finally, Draco pulled his eyes away from his look-a-like companion and turned back to Ginny.

"My cousin wishes to make your acquaintance, if you would come down."

Ginny stared curiously at the handsome young man next to Draco and caught his genuine smile flashing back at her. She felt a small sense of relief that he was obviously not as cold as his cousin, and came down the steps towards the two blond men.

"Miss Weasley, this is Armand Malfoy, my cousin."

Ginny was amused to note that his voice had slipped into the cool politeness of someone simply doing their duty of introducing two people.

"Armand, this is Ginevra Weasley. She'll be staying with us for the week."

Armand took one look at Ginny's face and flashed her a boyish grin. He reached out to take her hands in his and, still smiling, said feelingly, "_Ah, mais elle est charmante_!"

Confused, and not having any clue what he had just said, Ginny looked to Draco for an answer. He didn't seem too pleased by his cousin's words or his actions, and shot them both a scowl. Ginny realised Draco was not going to explain anything to her and looked back at Armand apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I have no idea what you just said."

"Ah, forgive me," said Armand with his own apologetic smile, the faint traces of a French accent creeping into his voice. "I forget where I am. In France, I do not speak English." His smile grew rather cheekily, and Ginny could see his grey eyes twinkling. "I hope you'll forgive me, for I did not mean any harm other than to say how charming you are. I have never seen a woman with such red hair. I'm sure Draco must admire you a lot too. He likes red-haired women."

Ginny laughed, and cast a curious glance at Draco, who was now glaring at his cousin in obvious annoyance.

"Is that so?" asked Ginny, her own eyes dancing enchantingly. "Because I have it on good authority that your cousin likes blonde women."

"Oh, no," replied Armand. "It's definitely redheads."

"_Ça suffit_, Armand!"

Armand shot his frustrated cousin a cheeky grin, and Ginny was amused to see Draco's piercing grey eyes narrow in annoyance, his scowl becoming even more pronounced on his face.

"When you're done, Armand," said Draco in an irritable voice, reverting back to English. "You can join me in the gaming room, unless you'd rather entertain the ladies and your sister, since you seem so enthralled by Miss Weasley."

Armand shook his head, his expression becoming more serious. "_Non_, I shall come." He smiled once more at Ginny and bowed his head gracefully. "It was a pleasure meeting you, _ma belle_."

Ginny smiled in reply and nodded her head to the cheeky Frenchman. She glanced at Draco with a determined and yet hopelessly embarrassed expression, knowing that if she didn't ask him for directions now, she'd just end up lost in the giant mansion.

"Could you tell me where your mother is meeting me? She didn't say, and the Portkey took me to the wrong room."

Draco's eyebrows drew together slightly, and a small frown formed on his lips. "Serino."

A house elf popped out of nowhere and bowed ridiculously low to Draco's legs.

"Take Miss Weasley to my mother."

"Yes, Master," said Serino with another bow, and then gestured for Ginny to follow her.

Ginny watched the two men leave the room the same way she had come as she followed the house elf, feeling just a little confused and yet amused at the same time. One thing she did wonder about was whether Draco really did like blondes, and she couldn't help but giggle to herself as she thought of all those women dying their hair blonde.

"What is so funny, Miss?"

"Nothing," said Ginny with a smile as she followed the elf to wherever Narcissa was waiting. "Nothing at all."

* * *

**Translations:**

"La mia bella incantatrice" "My beautiful enchantress." (Italian)

"Ah, mais elle est charmante!" "Ah, but she is charming!" (French)

"Ça suffit, Armand!" "That's enough, Armand!" (French)

"Ma belle" – "My beautiful." (French)


	6. Disillusioned

Disillusioned 

Ginny inwardly sighed as she took a sip of her tea. It was far too sweet thanks to Alexia putting in three more sugar lumps than what she had actually wanted, but she had not bothered to make a fuss about it. She knew that was what Alexia desired.

Since entering the room, the young blonde had made it very clear that she disliked Ginny and would not make her stay easy. Ginny would not have cared so much were it not for the fact that Narcissa had been called out of the room and left the two girls alone in the parlour.

This was going to be a very long tea party…

Her eyes flicked towards the blonde opposite her. She watched as Alexia curled her slender fingers gracefully around the floral-painted teacup and then picked it up to take a dainty sip. If Ginny were the jealous type, she would be feeling rather bitter right now upon seeing the grace that Alexia exuded. As it was, Ginny did not really care at all and merely picked up her own floral-painted teacup in her hands and took a much less dainty sip. This immediately had her scrunching her face up again due to the over-sweetness of the tea.

Ginny, feeling extremely uncharitable towards her host, placed her teacup back down on the saucer in her hand and glared at the smirking blonde opposite her. It seemed that every Malfoy had perfected that particular smirk, which was a faint curl of the lips that was too sardonic to be a smile and too amused to be a snarl. Ginny only found it annoying, and she had the sudden desire to slap the pretty blonde woman just to see that insufferable smugness disappear.

"Tell me, Jenny," said Alexia in her light, drawling voice with her jade eyes gleaming with faint mockery.

"Ginny," corrected Ginny automatically.

She knew that Alexia was getting her name wrong on purpose. The whole time Ginny had been in the room, the blonde had been calling her 'Jenny', 'Jeanie', and even 'Jiminy'. After the fourth time it had happened, Ginny was not impressed, to say the least, but she was not going to play Alexia's game. To say something back would be to admit defeat. However, Ginny never had been a patient woman, and her patience was most definitely wearing thin with each passing moment that she spent with Draco's cousin. It would not be long before her haughty dignity would be thrown out the window, and she would be acting just as immature.

"I'm sorry, _Ginny_," apologised Alexia with a faint smirk, "but I was curious about what it is you plan to do here."

Ginny frowned and wondered what on earth Alexia was talking about now.

"I don't think I quite understand," said Ginny slowly.

Alexia laughed softly, and her eyes lit up with derisive amusement.

"No, you wouldn't, would you?" Leaving no chance for Ginny to even begin to get offended, Alexia placed her teacup and saucer back down on the elegant table and smoothed down her dress, a fake smile coming to her lips. "I'm merely wondering what you expect to achieve here. Surely you are not hoping for an advantageous marriage? It would be quite ridiculous to even begin to dream of it with your connections."

Ginny's hands clenched into fists, but she forced a tight-lipped smile on her face. "I have to wonder, Alexia, what _you_ hope to achieve here?" retorted the redhead through slightly gritted teeth, her voice falsely polite. If it's your cousin you're hoping to ensnare, I think you're going to be sadly disappointed." She remembered Armand's comment and smiled sweetly at the snooty blonde. "I have it on good authority that he likes redheads anyway."

Gone went the sickly smile as Alexia's acidic green eyes narrowed with biting coldness. "You may be society's pet right now, _Ginny_, but I am not fooled, and neither is my cousin. You're just the dregs of society, and it is only because of Celia Adderson that you have any standing at all. People will soon see what a nobody you are. They'll grow bored of your so-called 'artlessness', and then you'll be left as the butt of all jokes." A nasty smile came to the girl's lips, and her green eyes glinted with malicious satisfaction. "We'll see how high and mighty you are then."

"If you're hoping to scare me, it's not going to work," responded Ginny bluntly.

She was quite sick of the conversation now. She was not afraid of Alexia, and she was certainly not afraid of the stupid, stuck-up people who thought the same as the blonde. Society could hate her if they wished, and she wouldn't care a jot; she had her friends, and she didn't need such snobby people as Alexia Malfoy to feel important. In fact, she was much happier without them.

Ginny had been a naïve girl caught up in the fantasies of childhood dreams when she had first come to London, but now she saw society for what it really was, and she knew better than to bow down to such fake, puffed-up people. She would not cower before them, and she would not allow them to change her into what they wished.

Celia would have thrown up her hands in horror had she known these rebellious thoughts, but Ginny could not have cared less in that moment. Spending half an hour with Alexia was more than enough to make her decide to be herself, whether society liked it or not.

Alexia, quite unperturbed by Ginny's flash of spirit, merely gave another of her small smirks.

"We'll see," said Alexia smugly.

Ginny considered throwing her sickly sweet tea at the girl, but she wisely refrained, and in good time too for the door had just opened to admit Narcissa Malfoy. The older blonde's cool blue eyes rested disconcertingly on each girl, and her eyebrow rose a fraction. Ginny knew the tension in the room was hard to miss as she herself had felt it build the entire time she and Alexia had been talking, and so she knew that Draco's mother was bound to put two and two together. She wondered if Narcissa would scold her for being rude like Celia so often did, but the stately blonde only took her seat and poured herself some tea.

"How is your mother, Ginevra?" asked Narcissa calmly.

Thankful for a topic that was not layered with offensive words, Ginny folded her hands neatly on her lap and glanced at the older woman that still watched her coolly.

"She is fine."

Narcissa nodded, a thoughtful look on her porcelain face. "It seems such a long time since I have talked with Molly. Seeing you makes me remember old days." She smiled slightly, the soft expression so different on her normally cold features that Ginny found her eyes goggling in surprise. "Your mother and I were always getting up to mischief…"

"You, Aunt?" exclaimed Alexia.

Ginny could understand the younger blonde's incredulity. Narcissa seemed to be the very paragon of haughty respectability. Ginny could not imagine her doing anything wrong, let alone mischievous.

"Even I was young and foolish once," replied Narcissa simply.

Ginny still found that hard to believe, but she said nothing more. The three women continued their lunch together and, thankfully, Alexia was in enough awe of her Aunt to not make any more snide comments. They talked about inconsequential things that all women chatted about in such gatherings, though when Narcissa finally announced that she would take Ginny to the room provided for her, the redhead could not help but feel glad to leave the parlour. She did not know how much longer she could handle hearing Alexia talk about all the pretty dresses she had brought over from France.

As she walked with Draco's mother through the grand home, an easy silence between them, Ginny found her thoughts straying back to Narcissa's earlier comments. She was curious to know how her mother and Narcissa had become friends. It seemed so hard to believe from what she knew about the Malfoys. After all, she knew what her own mother was like, and she could not believe that her mum was once best friends with this woman. They seemed like polar opposites, although, then again, her mum was best friends with Celia, and that sometimes made Ginny wonder too. She wanted to understand though, and now that Alexia was no longer there to put her spiteful nose in, Ginny felt much more comfortable asking the question that she had been dying to ask.

"Were you and my mother really good friends, Mrs Malfoy?"

Narcissa stared down at her as they walked, an unreadable expression on her face. She seemed to be deciding whether to answer or not, and Ginny wondered if she had been impertinent in asking such a thing. She hoped that Narcissa would not get angry with her. For some strange reason, she wanted this beautiful woman to like her.

"Yes," replied Narcissa finally, and it seemed to Ginny that the blonde was no longer in the hallway with her but was lost deep in memories. "We were good friends."

Ginny wondered if Narcissa would say anything more and watched the older woman with hopeful eyes. She was curious to find out more about her mother's society days, especially the friendship her mother had had with the blonde. It was so intriguing and yet so confusing at the same time.

"How did you become friends?" asked Ginny, unable to stop her thoughts from slipping out.

Narcissa fell silent for a moment, and then she stared at Ginny with another of her small frowns. "You really wish to know that much?"

Ginny nodded.

The blonde sighed resignedly. "Molly is older than me by a few years, but our mothers were friends, so I suppose you could say that I grew up with her in a way. At school, we were sorted into different houses, but our friendship remained as strong as ever, even after she had left Hogwarts, and I was still attending. It was only when she fell in love with Arthur Weasley that things had begun to change. I was engaged to Lucius by then, and my mother did not wish me to jeopardise the marriage by associating with someone who had eloped and lost all credibility, especially with a Weasley."

"What happened?"

"I had to cut the connection."

The way she said it was so emotionless that Ginny could not help but question if the blonde had taken the loss much harder than she cared to reveal. It seemed to her that Narcissa would not have shunned her mother had she not been forced to, and that made her wonder if perhaps there was more to this cool, unfeeling woman than she had at first supposed.

Ginny knew that Draco's mother was very young when she had married Lucius Malfoy, who, it was claimed, had very strict views on how a woman should behave. It was rumoured that Narcissa's early-married life had not been pleasant, and the fact that she had struggled to conceive for a great many years before Draco was finally born had only made Lucius treat his wife with all the more with contempt. Ginny knew this because all the ladies of pureblood high society liked to gossip about the Malfoys. Perhaps that was why the redhead did not hate Draco's mother as she loathed the rest of those arrogant, prideful women. In a way, one could not help but admire her for becoming the most respected and feared woman in society, which put all those women, who had so spitefully looked down their noses at her on her, back in their places.

Narcissa stopped outside an old oak door. "Here is your room. If there is anything you need, just call Serino, and she will attend to you."

Ginny nodded, muttering a small 'thank you', and went to enter the room when she felt a soft touch on her shoulder.

"Just one warning, Ginevra," said Narcissa, releasing her shoulder. "You are welcome to explore the manor, but I must ask you not to go in the East Wing. My husband is very sick, and I would hate for him to have a heart attack because he found out a Weasley was in his home." Her eyes lit up with that familiar amused smile that always seemed so mocking. "I like you Ginevra; you have spirit, but I'm afraid that even that is not enough for someone as prejudiced as my husband to overlook your name."

Ginny nodded in understanding, knowing that Narcissa was not trying to offend her or her family. "I'll remember that, and thank you for inviting me here."

Narcissa gave a tinkling laugh. "My dear, if you're still willing to thank me once this week is over then do. For now, I suggest you keep your thanks to yourself. This week will not be easy for you, but I am curious to see how you will do. Don't disappoint me."

She inclined her head politely and then walked away. Ginny stared after her, open-mouthed, confused by the woman's cryptic words. What could Narcissa possibly have meant? And what did she mean by the week not being easy? Of course Ginny knew that the people who had invited probably would not like her, but why was Narcissa so curious to see how she would deal with that? Ginny felt like she was being tested, somehow, and she was not sure whether to be pleased or annoyed that the blonde was playing with her like this, having no idea why Narcissa would do such a thing in the first place. The woman had admitted she liked her, but did that really mean anything at all?

Perplexed, and more than a little frustrated, Ginny sighed and walked into the room that had been prepared for her. She was not even able to dredge up the enthusiasm to be surprised by the grandeur that greeted her eyes. The room _was_ magnificent, and it was decorated in rich purples and gold, with beautifully designed wooden furniture and the most enormous bed Ginny had ever seen; however, she did not feel the urge to run around and jump on the bed like she had when she had first arrived at Celia's mansion. It seemed that she was already getting used to the splendour that surrounded her, though the Malfoys' home was far grander than Celia's.

Ginny collapsed on the bed and stared up at the intricately designed ceiling, wondering what tonight would be like. She didn't feel like walking around the manor right now, not only because she was afraid of getting lost, but also because she was beginning to feel more than a little worried about how Narcissa's guests were going to greet her. She did hope that Armand would find it in his heart to be nice to her since she had a feeling no one else would. Whatever tonight was going to be like, she knew that pleasant would not be on the list.

"Oh, Merlin, why did I come here?" muttered Ginny to herself. "I've sent myself to the gallows."

Being the stubborn person that she was, she would not go down without a fight.

**OOOO**

Ginny shifted uncomfortably in her chair and tried to ignore the sensation of dozens of eyes trained on her every move. She picked up her spoon and dipped it into the soup, the cold metal wobbling in her hand slightly as she felt the full force of the awkward feelings inspired in her thanks to the haughty stares being thrown her way. The Malfoys' guests had proven to be everything that Ginny had expected: snooty, prideful, rich, judgmental, and all of them seemed intent to make her feel as insignificant and worthless as possible. She recognised a few faces, such as Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini, but the others Ginny did not know at all. Now the redhead understood what Narcissa had meant by the week being hard, though this only made her wonder, again, why the woman had invited her. There was an ulterior motive there, but Ginny was still unsure of just what that motive was.

"Miss Weasley."

Ginny dropped her spoon back into her soup and glanced up to meet the gaze of the young woman now watching her through hawk-like blue eyes. She felt everyone else's eyes shoot towards her, and she tried to appear as unaffected as possible.

"They tell me that this is your first time moving in high society," said the hawk-eyed woman. "How do you enjoy it? I understand that your family never really had the luxury of giving you such entertainment growing up."

She gave a mocking little smile, and Ginny knew all too well that the girl was not being polite but was, in reality, trying to take a stab at the fact that Ginny had never been allowed to move in these circles before thanks to her poverty. They were testing her to see how she would react to their subtle taunts.

Ginny felt her patience snap. She had already decided that she was not going to shy away from them, and if they wanted to test her, well, they were going to get a lot more than they bargained for.

"Yes," replied Ginny bluntly. "This is my first time in society, but as for enjoying it, well, I think I would enjoy myself more if I was not subjected to silly questions everywhere I went simply because my family does not move in the highest circles."

Ginny offered the woman, who was now glaring at her, a bland smile and then picked up her spoon to take a mouthful of her soup. They would not have their fun at her expense; she would make sure of that. She didn't care if she was being rude. She had never done subtle, and she was not going to start now.

Silence once more pervaded around her part of the table, with only the clinking of cutlery and the swallowing of food being heard. Ginny looked down the other side of the long table and spotted Draco Malfoy at the head talking quietly to Theodore Nott, who was on his left. Both were apparently oblivious to what was going on around them. Armand was on Draco's other side, chatting animatedly to Daphne Greengrass, who was laughing and smiling at the things he said, while Alexia was seated directly opposite Armand and seemed to be gazing raptly at Draco. Ginny wished she could have been seated on that end rather than this end with all the people she did not know besides Pansy Parkinson and Narcissa. She seemed to be stuck with the snootiest bunch of all, and even if that end did hold Draco and Alexia, at least she would not have to put up with the appraising stares being placed on her where she was now.

"Splendid soup this is, Aunt!" Armand suddenly called out over the table. "The elves have really outdone themselves this time!"

Ginny heard some of the people around her mutter about lack of decorum and tried not to giggle. That was one Malfoy she did genuinely like. He seemed to be the only one not stiff to the point where he couldn't even laugh. There was just something natural and unaffected about him that was refreshing from the rest of the guests.

"Thank you, Armand," said Narcissa with a slight smile, "but perhaps you can save your raptures for after dinner?"

Armand blushed and went back to eating his soup, and Ginny faintly heard Daphne Greengrass scold him for his behaviour; though, judging by her flirtatious smile, she did not seem to have minded too much.

Ginny once more looked wistfully down at the other end of the table, seeing all the younger set talking amongst each other, and sighed unhappily. She was sure that Narcissa had squashed her between the two people she was currently sitting next to on purpose. On her left was a woman who was not only older than her by a few good years but had also barely spared her a glance, and on her right sat a man who seemed only interested in his food. This proved to be a rather tedious situation, and, as the soup was cleared away and the second course was placed in front of her, not much changed. Ginny continued eat, the people continued to stare, the woman next to her continued to chat to her neighbour, and the man on her other side continued to eat his food like there was no tomorrow.

Dinner was soon disposed off, and then the dessert was set on the table. Ginny felt rather sick just looking at all the food and contented herself with picking at a few of the delectable treats. The man next to her seemed to not mind the rich array of desserts at all and hoed down into it with all his usual enthusiasm. Ginny began to wonder if he had ever eaten anything in his life. Surely someone with so much wealth could not possibly want, let alone need, to eat so much? Maybe he was really just very greedy.

Ginny blinked her eyes rapidly and averted her gaze from the man who sat next to her to her own dinner plate. She had become so bored that she was beginning to study people's eating habits!

"Merlin, help me," muttered Ginny under her breath.

She promptly decided to entertain herself some other way. However, with so little to do but eat and listen to boring conversations, this was proving difficult. Her stupor was interrupted from time to time by a snide comment made by one of the women, which Ginny replied to with all her usual candidness, and reduced more than one person to a stony glare. That at least was somewhat triumphant for her, but she did feel irritated that she was losing her temper so easily.

Once dessert was finally taken away, everyone stood up to leave the dining hall to go to the room set for the entertainment of the evening. They all exited in pairs as it was the custom for the women to be escorted on the arm of a man, and Ginny wildly cast her eyes about to see who would be taking her arm. She hoped that it would not be the man who had sat next to her, the one who had been so engrossed with his food. To her surprise, she saw Theodore Nott make his way towards her, looking as serious and unapproachable as usual.

Ginny took the time to study the object of her friend's terror. He was not the typical "handsome" man. In fact, some would argue that he was not handsome at all. His hair was a rather bland shade of brown, and his face was quite thin. He was tall, but not built powerfully enough to balance it and so looked a trifle weedy. Ginny doubted he enjoyed anything much to do with the outdoors, but then she knew he had always been a "booker" of sorts. In his hazel eyes one could see a ready mind and keen perceptiveness, and somehow that seemed to make up for his lack of striking looks and fine physique – at least, it did in Ginny's opinion anyway.

"Miss Weasley," said Theodore in a low voice that was surprisingly pleasant to her ears. He bowed quickly, and rather brusquely, and then he lifted his face to hers. "Would you do me the honour of accepting my arm to the other room?"

Ginny suddenly realised what Kitty had meant by Theodore Nott being rather intimidating when she met those keen hazel eyes. He didn't need to be a giant to make one feel small, but Ginny, thankfully, was no mouse. In truth, she was somewhat relieved that it was Theodore Nott rather than anyone else who had offered to take her into the other room. She knew enough about society to learn that the person was expected to spend at least five minutes with her to make sure that she was comfortable. Society had some very odd ideas sometimes.

"Of course," replied Ginny.

She took his arm and slowly walked with him towards the doors, following the other dawdling couples in front of them. It was somewhat awkward to be on the arm of a Slytherin boy she had only known by name at school, but she tried not to focus too much on that and instead took to looking up at him in the hopes of determining why he liked her friend. She could not understand why someone like Theodore Nott, who appeared to be such a serious man, with his grim expression and glaring eyes, could possibly like someone like Kitty.

"You do not seem happy here," commented Theodore bluntly.

Ginny shrugged, knowing it to be true. "I know I am not wanted here by the majority of the guests. They don't respect me because of my family." She sighed and met his gaze frankly. "I don't think it is possible to be happy around such an environment, even for me. I actually wish I had not come."

She did not know why she was confiding in him, but for some incredibly strange reason she felt that she could trust him. He wasn't putting on false airs, and by his simple yet blunt question, she knew that he would not purposely be rude to her. He was just stating a fact, and somehow that made her feel more inclined to talk to him about her true feelings. The fact that he had come to her at all showed that he was not like the others.

He gave her a tight-lipped smile, which was somehow reassuring for all its seriousness. "Understandable, but I cannot imagine you being intimidated."

"It's not that I'm being intimidated," replied Ginny slowly. "I just really can't be bothered dealing with such petty people for a whole week. A name is a name, and, yes, I may not be in the highest circle of society, but I'm still a person. To be constantly ridiculed because of my genealogy can be tiresome. I'm already getting rather short in temper with the guests, I'm afraid."

"They probably deserved it," remarked Theodore coolly, well aware of what society could be like to a young girl of questionable heritage.

Ginny said nothing as they were both passing through the doors now. He led her to one of the cosy chairs and released her arm so that she could sit down. Ginny thanked him and took a seat, declining when he politely asked if she would like a drink. He sat down next to her, his face once more falling into the contemplative and somewhat brooding expression she was used to seeing him wear at school.

"May I ask you a question?" asked Ginny, her curious nature getting the better of her.

He nodded, though he watched her with an unreadable expression on his face. It was rather disconcerting, but Ginny had promised Kitty that she would talk to him for her, and she could not back down on her word now.

"Are you really intending to marry Katherine Cunningham?"

She saw him tense as his body stiffened, and his hazel eyes narrowed just a fraction. She wondered vaguely if she was about to lose his good confidence, but then he relaxed and gave her an appraising stare.

"You are her friend, are you not?" asked the brunet in his quiet voice, appearing neither pleased nor angry.

Ginny nodded.

"I suppose she told you that I have been courting her."

She nodded again and waited expectantly for his answer to her original question.

He frowned down at his hands while idly playing with the cuff on his dark-green coat. "I do not think she has any affection for me, and so I am unsure. Whatever her parents may wish, I will not enter into a marriage where my wife to be has no love for me."

Ginny was surprised by his confession. She had not really expected one of the most serious purebloods in society to have such a romantic turn of mind.

"You like her, then?" asked Ginny while intently watching his grim face.

"I have loved her from the moment I first saw her," admitted Theodore quietly, "but it is a foolish hope of mine that she could love me back. I am not like the other men. I do not know how to woo a woman with pretty phrases and smile charmingly, and she is so—"

He broke off with a sigh and met Ginny's gaze with his hard hazel eyes. "I would not tell you this except that I know you are her friend. Tell me, honestly, do you think she could care for me, or am I really wasting my time with a hopeless dream?"

Ginny wasn't quite sure what to say. Before meeting Theodore, she had quite made up her mind to make him leave Kitty alone, but now that she had met him and had seen that he was not so bad, she couldn't help but feel that perhaps he would do some good for Kitty. It was clear that he loved her, so she knew that Kitty would be well looked after, and there was also the fact that his seriousness would balance her friend's frivolity. He would, in effect, be able to sober the vivacious brunette when she needed it, and, more than likely, Kitty would be able to lighten the brooding man's mood in turn. They would both be good for each other, and now that Ginny knew which way matters stood, she was determined to help the unlikely couple come together. Kitty was scared of Theodore, but Ginny figured that with a helping hand she could help her friend get over her fear and see past the money and power to find the serious but gentle man inside.

"I think she could," replied Ginny reassuringly. "Give her time, and I think she could love you."

He smiled his small, tight-lipped smile; however, before he could make a reply, an arm suddenly came out of nowhere and looped around his shoulders. It was Blaise Zabini.

The handsome, dark-skinned man stared at Ginny haughtily for a moment, and then he glanced down at his friend. "Theodore, my good friend, you must help me with this. Daphne tells me that it was Lord Calgurd that married seven wives before polygamy was banned, but I always thought it was Lord Calarged. You're the bookish one, surely you know?"

"It was Lord Calarged. You are correct."

"I knew it!" exclaimed Blaise triumphantly. "Do come and tell her. You know what an absolute bore she gets when she thinks she's right; she just keeps insisting and insisting and won't leave you alone in the matter."

Theodore muttered a quick apology to Ginny and then left with Blaise towards the group of young people who were all talking happily amongst themselves. Ginny suddenly felt very alone and wished more than ever that Julian were here with her. She felt like she had found a friend in Theodore Nott, but he could not be with her all the time, and they still barely knew each other. It was a horrible feeling to be alone in a crowd, having complete strangers shoot haughty glances her way. She felt like she was back at Hogwarts in her first year, desperately trying to make friends yet feeling scrutinised at the same time.

"Why are you all alone, _ma belle_?"

Ginny turned her head with a relieved smile to meet the smiling grey eyes of Armand Malfoy, who had just taken a seat next to her.

"I'm afraid that no one wishes to talk to me," replied Ginny with a somewhat wry smile.

"Ah, yes, my aunt's friends are all very self-important and feel that they are too high to notice anyone. They despise me too because I do not play the 'perfect gentlemen', and I speak my mind; however, because I am related to Draco, I am allowed some saving grace."

Ginny couldn't help but smile. "You are very different from your family, if you don't mind my saying."

He grinned cheekily. "Oh, I know. It is a great shame to the Malfoys that I turned out so different. I suppose you could call me the black sheep of the family."

She laughed lightly and was suddenly struck at how odd it was to see someone who looked so much like Draco smiling in such an open and friendly fashion. Then again, now that she saw him close-up, she realised that there were only very faint similarities between the two. Yes, they both had blond hair and grey eyes, but Draco's features were more harsh and piercing. Armand had a softness about him that was unlikely to fade with age. He was just naturally boyish.

"There goes my cousin right there talking to my sister," observed Armand. He snorted to himself and once more grinned at Ginny. "Alexia is in love with Draco, but Draco doesn't care about her at all. I admit that I find it incredibly amusing to watch them. I always tease him about it."

"You and your cousin are good friends then?" asked Ginny curiously, following his gaze to where Draco and Alexia were talking.

Draco didn't look very happy; in fact, he looked rather bored. Ginny had to admit that it _was_ quite amusing to watch Alexia's attempts at getting his attention. The girl was clearly too stubborn to realise that he was just not interested and that all her seductive smiles were wasted.

"You could say that," conceded Armand. "He doesn't like to admit it, but I know that he loves me deep down."

The young blond smiled fondly at his cousin – something Ginny found quite hard to believe. How could anyone smile warmly at Draco Malfoy?

He glanced back at her with a boyish smile. "He's older than me, you know, so he's always taken care of me growing up. I can get away with teasing him now because he doesn't have the heart to offend me like he does everyone else."

"How old are you?"

Ginny had been wondering this for a while, for Armand did seem rather young when she looked at him closely.

"Just turned eighteen," he confessed with another one of his youthful grins. "I'm technically not supposed to be out in society yet, but since my parents have gone away to Germany for holidays, I was allowed to come and stay with Aunt Cissa for a while. She figured it wouldn't matter if I came into society early. Since no one will question her, I was allowed to join in."

"I see."

Ginny frowned to herself and glanced back at Draco. It just seemed so strange that such a nice young man could belong to such a family. She had gained a bit more understanding of Narcissa, but even Mrs Malfoy was still a very prideful and arrogant woman. Draco was no better, if not worse sometimes, and it just seemed odd that he could be a friend with such a boy as Armand, even if they were family.

As she stared at the tall blond, Draco glanced away from Alexia with a slightly exasperated expression on his face and rested his gaze on Ginny. She gasped, realising that he was staring directly at her, and tried hard to look like she had not just been staring at him. It was always so embarrassing to be caught looking at someone, let alone Draco Malfoy.

Armand chuckled. "Seems he caught us. I wonder if he'll come over."

"I hope he doesn't," muttered Ginny without thinking.

Armand laughed again and cast an amused glance her way. "You don't like him, do you?"

"No," replied Ginny bluntly. "I don't."

She hated him, and she didn't care if he had helped her that day when he'd caught her in the stream. She still hated him. He was insufferable, arrogant, and he always seemed to catch her doing embarrassing things.

"He's not so bad, you know," commented Armand. "He starts to grow on you once you get to know him better."

"If you're meaning like an unwanted fungus, then I completely agree," retorted Ginny waspishly.

Armand tried to protest, but Ginny would not believe that Draco could be anything but a conceited prat. She refused to be moved from her viewpoint. Even when Armand tried to tell her about all of Draco's sparkling qualities, she still could not believe him. She told him that he was just lying to make her like his insufferable cousin, and that she would not be taken in by his tricks.

The blond held his hands up in surrender. "Very well, hate him if you will, but I think if you give it time, you'll be singing a different tune."

"Hmph." Ginny crossed her legs and glared at the man in question. "I don't think so. I find it very easy to hate him, and I doubt that any of his so-called 'fine qualities' will make me feel any differently."

Armand smiled but said no more. Somehow, this made Ginny all the more angrier. She did not like his stupid cousin, and she had no intention of changing her mind. The only man she had eyes for was Julian, and that was that.

The rest of the evening proved to be just as tedious as the dinner. Daphne Greengrass snagged Armand from Ginny's side again, and so the redhead was left to her own devices. She half-heartedly tried to strike up a conversation with some of the guests, but she received the cold shoulder from all of them. Ginny wondered if she could leave to go to her room and made her excuses to Narcissa, complaining that she had a headache. Narcissa eyed her sharply for a moment but finally relented and said that she would get Serino to look at the redhead later.

Glad to make her escape, Ginny quickly left the drawing room and trudged up the maze-like hallways to her bedroom. She opened the door and collapsed on her bed without even getting changed from the nice dress she was wearing.

"This is awful," mumbled Ginny to herself, face firmly planted in the scented pillows. She hated to think what the days ahead would be like.

Ginny felt a faint prickle of tears in her eyes and desperately hoped that Julian would come soon to make everything better. Spirited or not, she did not like to be surrounded by people who hated her. Narcissa, Armand, and Theodore were just not enough to make things enjoyable for her.


	7. The Request

**The Request**

Draco settled himself more comfortably on the chair, stretching out his long limbs so that he was lounging very much at his ease. On his lap rested a well-worn novel, and every so often his lips would twitch into a smile as he read something amusing. He turned the page of his book and then glanced briefly towards the window. It was a frosty morning, so he could not see very clearly through the glass, but he was able to gauge by the position of the sun that it was probably close to six o'clock.

It was not rare for Draco to wake up early and lounge in his private library. He was a man who enjoyed solitude, despite what many believed, and he was also a man who appreciated such simple pleasures as reading a good book. Since his mother had decided to fill the manor with guests, it was only natural that he should turn to his usual place of retreat. He knew that most of the guests would still be asleep, which suited him just fine. It was true that he did enjoy the company of Theodore Nott, who at least had a head on his shoulders, but Draco didn't give a scrap about any of the other people that his mother had invited. Blaise was a vain fool, Pansy could only be described as a malicious harpy, Daphne was a pretty twit, and Ginny – Ginny Weasley was just annoying.

Thinking of the redhead brought a scowl to his normally impassive features. He still did not understand why his mother had insisted on inviting her, and he had tried to avoid the girl as much as possible. The only time he had talked to her was when she had first come to the manor, and that had been more out of surprise than anything. Seeing her like that had thrown him completely off balance, and then to have Armand start spouting that rubbish about how he, Draco, would like her because she had red hair had only made matters worse. Of course, he actually _had_ expressed a fascination with red-haired woman while sojourning with his young cousin in France, but that was not the point; the point was that he had already made the mistake of admitting that he found Ginny intriguing, and now, thanks to Armand's comment, she probably thought he liked her or something. Which he did not.

The truth was that Draco did not feel particularly comfortable around women. He was not a smooth-talker like his father – cold politeness really was about as nice as he could get. Most of the time, he just offended the women that he talked to, but the majority of them were so enamoured with him – or, rather, his status – that no offence in the world could drive them off. Ginny was different though. She didn't fawn over him, and she apparently had been offended by his words that night at the ball. Still, what he had said was only the truth; her family really were the dirt of society, and it wasn't like he had hurt her intentionally.

Draco snapped the book shut and glared out the window. The sound of the door creaking open caught his attention, and, narrowing his eyes in faint irritation at whoever had been stupid enough to disrupt him, Draco swung around just in time to see Ginny Weasley enter the library. Her hair was pulled back with a blue ribbon, with loose curls on top of her head, and she was wearing a white dress with a blue sash tied around the waist. He was struck by how natural her beauty was, and couldn't help but admire the way her skin glowed in the pale morning sun, or the way her eyes seemed to sparkle with golden hues. But then she saw him and all radiance died. It was obvious that she was not pleased to see him.

Well, she may not be happy to see him, but he was downright belligerent with her unannounced (and uninvited) presence. This was his library and his time for peace and quiet. No Weasley was going to spoil that, let alone one that seemed to have made it her mission in life to be an ungrateful wench every time he was nice to her. He still wasn't sure why he had lied for her that day at Celia Adderson's home, but, in a fit of what he saw as great wisdom, he had decided not to reflect too much upon it.

Ginny was still staring at him in that rude way of hers. Feeling increasingly irritated, Draco decided he'd best take matters into his own hands before they both fell into a staring – or, in this case, glaring – competition.

"Can I help you?" he asked dryly, folding his arms in what could have been seen as a protective stance, but on Draco it just looked insolent.

Ginny glanced wistfully about the room. He followed her gaze, watching her eyes widen as she took in the rows upon rows of books, and the gradual descent of her jaw. He couldn't help but be amused at how awestruck she seemed to be by his collection, and he felt almost proud that something he owned should inspire such a childlike happiness in her face. This was his private library, after all, and was filled with his books.

Her eyes snapped back to his face, as if she had only just realised that he had spoken to her. "Is this the library?"

Draco shook his head. "This is my library. The manor's library is on the first floor."

"Well, there's enough room in here for the both of us."

Her voice sounded defiant, as if she was seeing whether Draco would tell her to go away or not. Of course, he had practically told her to go away with his first greeting. He thought it was just like her not to take the hint. She was incredibly obstinate, he had discovered.

"There's even more room in the main library," Draco replied evenly.

Ginny eyed him with a mulish look on her face. "I'm sure it won't _hurt_ you if I just borrow some of your books and take a seat in here. You won't have to talk to me."

That was not the point. He didn't want her here full-stop, and it didn't help that he was not the sharing type.

Once, he would have had no qualms in telling her to go away – as well as adding in a few nasty comments about her family – but his mother had taken great care to drum into his brain the importance of propriety and manners since his graduation from Hogwarts. So, thanks to Narcissa's many homilies, Draco had now resigned himself to being polite, no matter how forced it seemed. Unfortunately, that meant he couldn't always get his way, which was something he was not too thrilled about, and one of the main reasons he slipped up so much in being that perfect, polite gentleman. He was a rather thoughtless and selfish young man, and that was never a good combination.

His grey eyes narrowed in slight frustration, taking on an irritable gleam that many of his friends knew to be a sure sign that he was about to get very blunt and rude.

"There are plenty of other books you can read, Ginevra. I'm sure you don't need to stay here and read these ones."

Ginny appeared to have not noticed the danger signs in the blond, or maybe she just didn't care.

"Yes, but I want to read _these_ ones," she persisted.

It would have been rather childish for Draco to say that she couldn't read them because he said so, but in his mind he was extremely tempted to say just that. As it was, he was also intelligent enough to realise that this argument was not going to get anywhere. She was far too stubborn to give in, and he was far too lazy to keep it going.

"Fine," Draco said simply, and lounged more easily into his chair again.

That was one satisfaction he could take; he had claimed the comfiest chair in the room. He also knew it would annoy her more if he appeared to be unconcerned than to keep getting angry. It would take away her satisfaction in winning the argument.

Draco once more turned his attention to his book, though he was not quite able to hide his smug smile. He could feel Ginny glaring at him still, but then her footsteps drifted off towards the other side of the room where he heard her start rummaging through the shelves for a book of her own. He had almost hoped she would have said something and felt just a little disappointed that she had simply flounced off. Of course, he did not want to actually talk to her; it was just a natural desire to irritate her, that was all.

The room fell silent for a moment except for Ginny's occasional sighs and the sound of books being opened and closed as the obstinate redhead rifled through _his_ books. His eyebrows creased together, the smallest of frowns settling on his lips. For anyone watching him it would seem like he was completely rapt in his novel, but his unmoving eyes belied his apparent engrossment. He had not taken in a single word of the book ever since Ginny had entered the room.

"Aha!" Ginny suddenly exclaimed, causing Draco's ears to prick up.

His grey eyes moved up over the page of his book to stare at her, and he watched as she walked towards where he was sitting, her hands now clutching a small, blue book. She took a seat on the other chair, which was much less comfy, and promptly opened the book she had grabbed. Draco's eyes still surreptitiously watched her, but, in truth, he was more curious to see what it was she had picked out. It was the sort of prideful curiosity of not quite being able to believe that someone like Ginny, who he had always thought quite stupid, could like one of his books. Unfortunately for Draco, Ginny's hand covered the title of the book and so his curiosity could not be satisfied.

Once more, the room fell into silence; Draco, however, was finding it incredibly difficult to read his book. He was very conscious of Ginny sitting only a few feet from him, and the only thing he seemed to be achieving was staring blankly at the page, which he had yet to turn. He wondered if she was being any more successful in reading her book, and thought it rather unfair if she was. To him, it seemed all very unjust that he should not be able to read in his own library, while she – that red-haired intruder – could.

Frustrated, and feeling like he had to do _something_ other than just sitting here and staring at his page, Draco glanced back at Ginny. "What are you reading?" he asked, unable to stop his curiosity from getting the better of him. He always had been rather nosy.

She looked up from the pages, meeting his gaze steadily. "_Hallows Ridge."_

"Oh," he said dismissively, though inwardly he was impressed.

_Hallows Ridge_ just so happened to be his favourite book, and he wasn't sure how he felt about her reading it. He was rather protective of that book, but his protectiveness was overwhelmed with the surprise he felt upon discovering that she would actually want to read something that most people had never heard of.

"It's my favourite book," Ginny added with a smile.

Draco felt quite speechless. He didn't like the thought of sharing anything in common with Ginny Weasley, no matter how intriguing he found her (and even that went against his better judgment).

He returned his attention to his book, but he only managed to read three words before he slipped into disinterest again. Instead, he found himself staring at the redhead sitting near him. One of her curls had slipped out of the ribbon holding her hair up and was dangling in front of her eyes. He watched as she impatiently pushed the strands of red away from her face, and he had to admit that the more he saw her, the more her looks seemed to grow on him. He had never thought her ugly, but she was by no means beautiful. There was just something about her, though; something that made him want to look. It was one of the most intriguing things about her, and one of the most frustrating.

The door opened again, and Draco involuntarily jumped in his seat, not having expected anyone else to come in at this time of the morning. He hoped the intruder had not seen him staring at Ginny. He turned to see his mother standing calmly by the door, watching him through disconcerting blue eyes.

"Mother," he said slowly, frantically trying to collect his wits. "Is there something wrong?"

Narcissa shook her head. "No, but your father wishes to speak with you, Draco."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny close the book she had been reading and look at Narcissa curiously. He was too surprised to really feel angry that she was nosing in on his business though. His father rarely spoke to him these days. This was not due to any animosity between them, but rather Lucius Malfoy was very sick after having suffered a stroke five months ago. Draco hadn't been called into the room for a while now, and he'd rather forget about what had happened the last time that he had.

"Now?" Draco asked, wondering what it was his father wished to speak to him about and still feeling a little apprehensive, despite his mother's assurances that nothing was wrong.

"Yes," Narcissa replied impatiently. "Why else would I come looking for you at this ungodly hour?"

Draco lowered his gaze, feeling much like a child again, being reprimanded by one of his mother's famous scolds. She always had been rather short with him when he would do or say something idiotic in her eyes – even though she loved him and had always spoilt him. Things had changed since he had graduated from Hogwarts though, and it had only got worse once his father had the stroke. His mother relied on him to take up the family mantle, and so became that much harder on him. It was her influence, really, that had made him 'grow up' as it were. She refused to have a son who was too spoilt to achieve anything but his own selfish desires.

Trying hard not to sigh, Draco placed his book down and stood up. He walked over to his mother, instinctively glancing towards Ginny as he did so, who was watching both of them with undisguised curiousness.

_Nosy bint,_ he thought rather hypocritically, seeming to forget that he himself was notorious for snooping into other people's business.

"Stop dawdling, Draco," Narcissa scolded, and walked out of the room.

Draco really did sigh then. He followed after her, all thoughts of Ginny slipping away as the door was shut behind him. He looked up and saw his mother's figure disappearing around the corner, and increased his pace to catch up.

"Did he say why he wanted to see me, Mother?" Draco asked.

"No. He just said it was important."

Draco scowled. It was just like his father to be mysterious about everything, and even more like his mother to be purposely vague. More than likely she did know and just wasn't telling him. He knew his parents tricks.

"I was surprised to see you sitting with Ginevra," Narcissa commented after a moment.

Draco's eyes hardened. "Well, I normally wouldn't, but she makes it rather difficult for people to say no to her."

"Is that so?" Narcissa smiled, her eyes filling with true amusement. "She really is living up to my expectations then."

"What?"

Just what on earth was his mother on about now? He knew she had a reason for inviting Ginny here, but he had thought it was just because his mother had been friends with hers. Narcissa was sneaky, though, and he had no doubt that she was amusing herself at Ginny's expense for some grand purpose that he would never guess. That was just her way.

"Don't worry your head about it, Draco. It doesn't concern you."

He wasn't sure if he believed her, but he was still too caught up in worrying about what his father wanted to say to him to give it much thought.

Narcissa stopped in front of the wooden door that led to Lucius's bedroom and gave Draco a sharp look. "Remember what the doctor said. You mustn't excite him too much; otherwise he could have another stroke."

"I know, I know," Draco replied impatiently, just wanting to hurry up and get this over with.

She stared at him coolly for a moment before finally turning the handle and opening the door. Draco walked in immediately, his eyes naturally scanning the extravagant room. It looked just the same as it had the last time he had stood in it, with its drawn, velvet curtains and a bed so large it was to the point of being ridiculous. In the grand four-poster bed sat his father.

"Come closer, son," Lucius commanded in a raspy voice.

Draco took a few steps forward and was immediately struck by how sickly his father looked. Dark shadows circled Lucius's grey eyes, and his cheeks seemed more sunken and pale than the last time he had seen him. Draco gave a worried glance at his mother, who only nodded as she shut the door behind him and took her place on the chair by the door.

"You are twenty now, are you not?" Lucius asked.

"Yes, Father," Draco replied in his most respectful voice, hands clasped behind his back.

He didn't want to come off as too intimidating. He remembered very clearly how his father had whacked him in the legs with that damned cane last time for trying to 'lord over his own father'. The bruise had lasted for two weeks.

Lucius nodded and seemed satisfied by something. "A good age."

Draco wondered what that meant, but Lucius had fallen silent, his eyes sliding shut. Silence continued to fill the room, and Draco hoped his father had not fallen asleep. When light snoring started coming from the bed, Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes in exasperation and then cleared his throat loudly. Lucius quickly opened his eyes again and tried to give Draco one of his infamous glares, but, sadly, the red nightcap on his head ruined the effect. He only ended up looking like a grumpy old man who needed a good night's sleep.

"You were saying, Father?" Draco prompted politely.

"Don't you use that high and mighty language with me, brat," Lucius snapped, nightcap slipping haphazardly on his silvery-blond hair, his grey eyes blazing. "Don't forget that it was I who brought you up!"

Draco saw his mother shift in alarm in her seat, and he too could feel the panic rising in him. This was why he was not allowed to see his father. It seemed that no matter what he did he almost always managed to get Lucius angry with him. It was very tiring trying to placate the ill-tempered old man as well. Draco didn't need any more excuses to be emotionally blackmailed, as it was he who had been accused of bringing on the stroke in the first place, which he had always thought rather unjust.

Lucius sucked in a deep breath, but his eyes still glared suspiciously at Draco. He reminded the younger blond of a vulture in that moment, all hunched over and glaring, and Draco would have laughed to himself if it weren't for the fact that he could see that horrible cane just inches from his father's hands. He also knew that with his mother watching it would not be a very wise thing to do.

"Now," Lucius continued in his usual raspy voice, though Draco thought it sounded a bit more sickly than usual. His father seemed to have started pulling out the 'feeble' act, as the sudden fury that had burnt in his face had melted away to be replaced with the 'I'm on my deathbed' expression. "You know that I am getting old; I don't know how much longer I have left to live…"

Draco said nothing. He knew that his father would only get angry with him if he did. If he said that his father would live for a long time yet, Lucius would tell him to stop being so damn optimistic because it made him feel sick, and if Draco agreed that his father did look very ill, then that would only cause Lucius to get all fired up again and accuse his son of wanting him to die now. It was a no-win situation. His father really could be quite difficult when he wanted to be.

"And as you know, once I die there will be no heir to the Malfoy inheritance except you..."

Again, Draco said nothing, though not because he wished to keep his father in a good mood. This time he simply did not quite trust himself to speak. A conversation about heirs could only mean one thing, and Draco wasn't sure that he wanted to even think about that just yet.

His father, looking as sickly as ever, gazed at him through surprisingly keen eyes. "I do not want to die without seeing my grandson."

"But, Father, I—"

"Would you withhold this from your dying father?" Lucius demanded weakly, and even managed to force out a feeble cough.

Draco tried hard not to roll his eyes, knowing very well that his father did not have a cough and was only using it to increase the effect of the sickly act. Sometimes, Draco had to wonder how it was that he ended up with such manipulative parents.

"Of course not, Father," Draco responded dutifully, knowing enough about Lucius by now to know that one did not argue with him when he got like this.

"Good," Lucius said in a surprisingly brisk voice. "Then I expect you to have a wife and get her pregnant by the end of the month."

Draco felt his jaw drop. "_W-what?_" he spluttered, his eyes widening in stunned astonishment.

His father had to be kidding! He couldn't marry now. He was only twenty years old, for goodness' sake. Sure, he attended the Marriage Mart, but men weren't really expected to marry until they were at least twenty-six or more. His father wanted him to marry in a month? _And_ get her pregnant? That was just—well, it was just ridiculous!

"Mother, tell him he's being unreasonable!" Draco demanded, turning imploring eyes on Narcissa, who was watching them both with an amused smile lingering in her eyes.

That look told him enough that he would get no help from her, and, feeling rather cross and much like a martyr, Draco glared at both his parents. Somehow, he knew that they had planned this.

"Narcissa agrees that it is time you get married. You have to take over the Malfoy name as the head of the family soon, and she, like me, agrees that you need to start a family of your own to secure your position." Lucius suddenly got a very stubborn look about his mouth. "I will not have that twit Silas putting his children in my home! You must secure your heir!"

"Father, I'm twenty years old; I hardly think that I'm going to be dying any time soon."

This did not seem to placate his father, as Lucius only got more riled up and even wrapped his fingers around the wretched cane that had always been Draco's nightmare as a child – not that his father had ever hit him with the intention of doing any serious damage. The cane was used in much the same way his mother used to clout him around the ears for bringing strange children over when he was little (the children had turned out to be Muggles).

Draco wisely took a step back, but his grey eyes still watched the cane warily.

"And how do you know?" Lucius snapped, seemingly oblivious to his son's sudden cautiousness. "You could die tomorrow. That idiot Armand might very well poison you at dinner because he wants to be the heir."

Draco did not see fit to tell his father that the last thing on Armand's mind would be to poison him and, instead, tried very hard not to roll his eyes. Melodrama was not something Draco was particularly fond of. Just because his father had always been paranoid of his younger brother trying to kill him did not mean that Draco would be the same with Armand.

"Lucius," Narcissa said soothingly, coming forward from her seat to lean over him. "Don't worry about this now. I shall talk to Draco." She glared at Draco as she said that, and he knew that he was about to receive an earful from his mother once they were out of the room.

"Yes, you talk to him, Narcissa," Lucius agreed in a weak voice, casting Draco his own angry glare, so that Draco found himself faced by both his parents' glowering faces.

Narcissa gave Lucius a small kiss on the forehead and then walked over to where Draco stood. "Come, Draco," she said imperiously, placing her hand on his shoulder and giving it a rather hard squeeze. "We'll leave your father to rest."

Draco said nothing and followed his mother out of the room. Once the door was shut behind them, she stared at him sharply; he glared right back. He didn't have to restrain himself now.

"What's the meaning of this, Mother?" Draco hissed, folding his arms angrily. "Have you gone mad?"

"How dare you talk to me like that," Narcissa retorted icily. "Have you forgotten your manners already?"

Draco shuffled awkwardly and hung his head in shame. "Sorry, Mother."

"I should think so," Narcissa replied, still with that horribly chilly voice.

Draco winced, knowing that he had ruffled her feathers more than he should have.

"Still," Draco said, much more subdued, "I don't know why you're both getting so worried about me failing to produce an heir."

Narcissa sighed and gave him one of her best 'don't be stupid' looks. "It's not about that, Draco; you know that's just your father being paranoid."

"Then why do you want me to get married so soon too?"

"You know very well that your father is dying," she replied shortly.

He blinked, and Narcissa nodded her head.

"Yes, Draco, your father is dying. It is possible that he will not last the year."

Draco didn't know what to say to that. He had always thought that his father would get better, and, in truth, a lot of the time he thought his father was just playing up the sickliness so he could get his way more. Draco had never thought that Lucius would actually die any time soon, but his mother seemed to think so.

"Are you sure?" he asked tentatively.

He didn't like to think of his father dying. It was an odd relationship that they shared, but he did love his father underneath it all.

"Yes, I'm sure," she replied with less bite in her voice now.

She looked tired and worn, and Draco knew that she was genuinely saddened at the thought of Lucius dying. He knew that his parents' marriage had not always been perfect, but they had grown to love each other over the years. Lucius's death would be a hard time for all of them.

"I suppose you want to make him happy then, don't you?"

Narcissa nodded, her eyes softening as they rested on his face. "I know you feel like this is asking a lot of you, Draco, but your father has always wanted to hold his grandchild in his arms. Don't take this away from him now."

Draco's face broke into a frown, and he lowered his eyes to the ground once more. He knew he would never be able to marry for love, but he had hoped to be able to marry someone he could actually tolerate. There was no girl who he could think of that he wished to spend his life with, and he refused to be one of those men who satisfied their disappointing marriages by having affairs with other women. He did understand why his mother had agreed to Lucius's odd demand, however, for if he didn't marry someone soon, then his father could never hope to call himself a grandfather.

It was a sticky situation. There was no real definite clarity on who would be more selfish: Lucius wanting his son to marry early or Draco wanting to wait. Draco knew, however, that even under all his frustration and resentment, he would never be able to hold this wish from his father. The man had done a lot for him over the years, and Draco did not have the heart to withhold such a precious thing from him – even at the cost of his own happiness. He was not as selfish as many believed, and he did love his father enough to want him happy.

"I guess I'd better start looking for a wife then," Draco said with a humourless laugh.

Narcissa gave him a sad sort of smile and pulled him into her arms. It seemed like so long ago that she had held him like this, and, somehow, that seemed to comfort him more than anything else.

"Thank you, Draco."

**OOOO**

Ginny wandered along the field, her cheeks flushed from the cold air. It was moving into autumn now and the air was getting cooler. Normally, she would not have bothered to venture out when the sky was looking so grey, but she had wanted desperately to escape from the house. After her little morning run-in with Draco in his private library, she had left and gone to breakfast. Draco and Narcissa had not shown up, and so it had been left to Alexia to make sure the guests were comfortable. She, obviously, had not shown that same respect to Ginny and had purposely made the house-elf give the redhead porridge that Ginny thought had might as well been troll-bogeys; it sure had tasted like it, anyway.

The day had only progressed for the worse from there. The men had gone off to do whatever it was men did, and the women had all agglomerated to one of the drawing rooms. Daphne decided that she would entertain everyone by playing on the pianoforte, and since she was the only female that had so much as smiled at Ginny, the redhead found herself left with the other women whom she had fondly labelled 'haughty harpies' for her entertainment. They all eyed her sharply, barely including her in their conversations unless it was to make a cutting remark. Even Ginny, who was normally so resilient, found her spirit breaking after a while. As soon as she felt the threatening burning behind her eyes and the nasty lump growing in her throat, she had quickly made her excuses and fled the house to the wild moors outside.

Ginny breathed in the cold air, closing her eyes as she walked. Somehow, it was becoming harder to hold her head high amongst these women, and while she was pleased to say that she had not broken down in front of them, she didn't know how long she could keep being strong. Everywhere she went someone was glaring at her or judging her, overwhelming her with feelings of insignificance until she was almost ready to believe that she was as worthless as they thought her.

"Is this really worth it?" she asked herself.

She stared out into the distance where rugged, moth-eaten hills could be seen shadowed under a grey sky. She felt more comfortable with the men, which was really no surprise considering she had grown up with six brothers. But, in society, this was frowned upon as it was seen as very forward to talk to just men. There really was no winning here.

Something moved in the trees near her, and Ginny narrowed her eyes as she tried to get a better look. She managed to discover that it was a person – a person with black hair – and, as she walked forward, she realised that it was Julian. A happy smile broke on her face, and, throwing all decorum to the winds, Ginny ran forward and crashed into his chest, throwing her arms around him and holding him close.

"I'm so glad to see you," Ginny choked out, closing her eyes tightly to squeeze back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Ginny," Julian murmured, placing his arms around her. "Don't tell me it's been that bad, has it?"

"It's been awful," she confessed, pulling back to meet his gaze.

Even with all the happiness she felt in seeing him, she thought she could see a difference in his face. There was a strain in his expression that had not been there before, and he had the beginnings of dark shadows circling his eyes. Even his smile seemed a little forced.

"What happened?" she asked. "You look troubled."

Julian shook his head, giving a dismissive smile. "It's nothing for you to worry about. I'm more worried about you right now."

She smiled and tucked her hand in his, allowing him to lead her back towards the house. "I'm okay now that you're here. I was just getting so frustrated with those awful women. They hate me, and I—" She broke off with an angry huff. "You know, I don't even want to talk about it. They're not worth it."

He laughed slightly. "If you say so, but I think talking about it might help."

She shrugged. "I don't know. I tell myself that I shouldn't let them get to me, but I don't think anyone can stop themselves from not being upset by being stuck in a room with people that hate them all day."

"You don't have to stay, you know," he said gently. "I can take you back home."

She shook her head. "That'll make them think that they've won, and I refuse to let those harpies think they've got rid of me that easily."

He smiled. "You're a stubborn woman, Ginny."

Ginny stopped and looked at him seriously. "Sometimes you have to be."

Those women thought they could make her break by being horrible – and, yes, she may have stumbled today – but she would not let them get rid of her. She was a Weasley, and she was proud of it. She'd show them all what she was made of yet.

"So who's here?" Julian asked, as they continued to walk. "I know that Mrs Malfoy wanted to get some of the younger people for Alexia."

Ginny rattled off all the names of the people who had come to the Malfoys' get-together, scowling as she said a few of them – notably Pansy and a woman named Sephrina, who had proven to be very scathing in her judgments of Ginny.

"No wonder you've been having it hard," Julian said sympathetically. "Mrs Malfoy seems to have invited every high-minded harpy in society."

"So it would seem," Ginny muttered dryly.

She really had to wonder what Narcissa's aims had been in inviting her here along with all these horrible people. Somehow, she thought that whatever it was she was far happier in not knowing.

**A/N: So I know Lucius probably never had a brother, but since it doesn't say so in canon (at least from what I remember), and obviously if Draco has French cousins in this fanfic, then Lucius must have had siblings. So that's how Silas comes into this.**

'**Hallows Ridge' is, quite literally, a fictional novel that I created for the purposes of having a 'magical' novel for Draco and Ginny to like. I will be very amused if there is such a novel by that name.**


	8. A Question of Etiquette

**A Question of Etiquette**

"Wait, wait," Armand interrupted, voice trembling with laughter. "You're telling me that Uncle wants you to marry some girl _and_ get her pregnant within a month?"

Draco nodded, hiding his face in his hands as he sat hunched over on the chair next to his younger cousin. He had told his mother that he would do what his father wanted, but the more Draco thought about it, the more he wished he could just say no. This was asking for just too much. He was going to have to marry a girl he probably didn't even like, and then, to make things worse, he had to get her pregnant before the end of the month. It was ridiculous and, truth be told, he was feeling horribly nervous at the thought. So many people assumed that he had it easy with women, but Draco was no ladies' man. He was feeling quite overwhelmed by the task that had been set before him.

Armand let out a low whistle and leaned back in his armchair, glancing down at Draco with a pitying expression. "I do not envy you right now."

"Thanks," Draco said dryly, finally lifting his face from his hands.

He was paler than usual; the little colour he had in his cheeks was fading with his nervousness so that he resembled more of a pearly white ghost than a living, substantial being. It was obvious that he was not happy about what he had to do. It was just too _soon_.

"Well, let's look on the bright side of things," Armand said cheerfully, and then paused, scratching his smooth chin, and looking quite at a loss on what those bright things were.

Draco sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "You see what I mean? There is no damn bright side to this arrangement!" He turned his attention towards the assortment of women littering the room. "I'm just going to be forced into marrying one of them."

As he said this, he stared at the girls that had been handpicked by his mother, for he knew why she had invited them now. Every one of these girls, except for Ginny, came from outstanding pureblood families and would be an ideal choice for a bride. The only problem was that Draco felt nothing for any of them. He'd never been exactly romantic, but he did care about marrying someone he at least liked, and it didn't help that he'd known these girls nearly his whole life. He just wasn't interested in them.

"They're not so bad," Armand mused slowly, also watching the girls. "Most of them are quite beautiful. Surely there must be one that you like."

Draco narrowed his eyes as he stared at the girls.

First there was Pansy: a girl he had known since the day he was born, and one that he knew had always fancied him. She was quite pretty, he supposed, if pug-faced harpies were your type. However, he found her style a little too fake for his tastes. Her hair was cut short, as was the fashion, and styled in rigid curls that looked like no amount of wind could move them. Her eyes were a piercing shade of blue, and her eyebrows had been plucked to the point of being nonexistent so that they arched dramatically. Her lips, which had once been quite small, had been filled with Merlin knew what in order to make a pout, and she also liked to paint her lips a deep shade of red which Draco had labelled the 'whore's choice' – the blond knowing that any woman who called herself a seductress almost always wore that certain shade.

Pansy was tall for a woman, standing proudly at six foot, and was very slim to the point of being skeletal — the fashion called for women to be no more than wisps. She always wore clothes of the highest fashion, though they were perhaps a little too bold to be considered suitable, and right now she was wearing a daring, vibrant red dress that dipped in a low V at her breasts. Draco had to admit that she did catch one's eye.

Perhaps he once might have liked her at school – he had courted her and been close with her in his teenage years – but now he was more than happy to have resigned that relationship to a fleeting crush. No doubt she probably expected him to marry her, but he had no intention in going down that road. Pansy was a girl best left in the past.

"Not Pansy," Draco muttered, and scrolled his eyes over to Alexia, who was sitting next to Blaise Zabini and talking about something that seemed to amuse her, judging by the mocking laughter that spilled from her lips.

Alexia was looking beautiful, as always, with her long blonde hair styled in Grecian ringlets, and her cat-like eyes lighting up with her usual derisive amusement. Her dress was simple, as was her style, and of her favourite shade of dark green to match her acidic eyes. He knew very well that she believed herself to be madly in love with him, but this was another girl who Draco had no intention of considering for a wife, no matter how ridiculously beautiful she may be. Not only did he dislike the idea of going with his cousin, feeling the connection was just too close for comfort, but he also found her conversation rather tedious. She only seemed to be able to converse about other women, and that, to Draco, showed a jealous nature.

He was also embarrassed to admit that she made him uncomfortable. He was still just a man, and she had practically thrown herself at him more than once for him to gather that she wanted a lot more than what he was willing to give her – which had led to some awkward situations he would rather not reflect on. This, however, only managed to succeed in putting him off even more. He was no man of loose morals, no matter how lax he appeared to other people. His mother, after all, had taught him better than that.

No, Alexia was not what he wanted in a wife, and her name was most definitely removed from the list.

Next, his eyes came to rest on Daphne Greengrass, who at this moment was flirting rather outrageously with one of the older men while giving sidelong glances at Blaise Zabini. That alone told Draco enough about Daphne to not even bother contemplating her. However, he couldn't just overlook someone simply because she seemed to fancy someone else – especially since Daphne appeared to be in love with every handsome man she met. He knew that Daphne did indeed have her good points, being much nicer than the other girls, as she did not have such a mercenary nature, but she was also one of the stupidest, vainest and self-centred girls he had ever met. She believed every man to be in love with her, and her greatest pride was the crown of long, golden hair that adorned her pretty head. Her eyes were a perfect, cornflower blue, and she had a body that would make any man bow down at her feet in worshipful lust.

Yes, Daphne was indeed attractive, and Draco knew it, but he could not get past her fickleness. He recalled with a shudder every time he had been forced to talk with her, and each time he had had to restrain himself from running away. Her favourite topics to discuss were clothes, men, compliments she had received, and how wonderful she was at everything. He knew that a week spent with Daphne Greengrass would have him resorting to suicide – or murder.

"Definitely not Daphne," he muttered with a shudder.

He glanced past the twittering blonde to the raven-haired Sephrina, who had cornered Theodore Nott and now held him captive in conversation. Sephrina was not beautiful, with grey eyes that were hard like slates, and thin, almost horse-like features that were often marred by the condescending expression that so easily settled on her face. However, her family were one of the best in all of England, so she would be an ideal match for anyone wanting to uphold the respect and honour of his family. Draco found himself a little wary of her though, knowing her to be extremely vindictive when crossed. He also didn't like the fact that she was four years older than he. He had nothing against older women, having a soft spot for more than one beautiful lady who was over thirty, but he had no desire to have his wife boss him around, and somehow he thought that Sephrina would if he chose her. She had an independence that was to the point of being patronising, and he knew her to be extremely intelligent. It wasn't that he wanted a stupid wife, but sometimes he found himself feeling just a little stupid himself when around Sephrina, and that was not something he liked at all. Malfoys, after all, were not supposed to feel inferior.

Then there was Celestia Gorback, who was one of those females who were incredibly loud and also incredibly fat. Her obnoxious attitude and loud horse-laugh were the bane of his existence. As his eyes fell on her dimpled face, watching in grotesque fascination as she threw her head back and laughed her hideous laugh, he knew that there was no way in hell he would ever contemplate her.

Call him shallow, but Draco was not attracted to Celestia in the slightest, nor did he appreciate her vulgarity. He could recall very vividly how she had latched her sausage fingers around his arm, painted talons digging into his flesh, and demanded he dance with her for the waltz. Decorum had insisted he say yes – not to mention his mother had placed a hard glare on him that had left him with no other choice. The resulting dance had ended with Draco feeling rather violated by the way Celestia had pulled him closer to her – too close for comfort – and she had not let him pull back or leave the dance floor thanks to her display of rather disconcerting strength. He was then forced to listen to her suggestive talk – topics and images that were bad enough to make him feel thoroughly ill. Thankfully, the dance had finished just as she was explaining her fantasies, which involved him in some very odd places and in very odd attire, and Draco had made his quick escape. He took great care to never be near her again and rued the day her family ever managed to make themselves respectable, thus forcing him to be inflicted with her in his own home. Sometimes he really detested decorum.

Draco glanced past the other girls who barely caught his attention, ticking them off one-by-one: too pretentious, too silly, too old, too weird, etcetera. Then his eyes finally fell on Ginny Weasley. She was sitting away from the group at the pianoforte, her fingers idly skipping across the black and white keys with a rather bored expression on her face. Draco had always felt rather curious about her, ever since the moment he had seen her that day in Diagon Alley with Celia Adderson and she had confessed that she had no idea what to say to him. She was different from the other girls in so many ways. She had neither connections nor great beauty, and she was certainly no town miss able to cause a man to blush by her flirting expertise. She was just herself, and there was something about that genuineness – something about the way she carried herself with her own proud dignity, defiantly standing tall against all odds – that caused his attention to focus on her.

She was not the ideal choice for a bride, and Draco didn't even bother to contemplate her good and bad points. Her last name was enough for him to not even consider her, never mind how irritating she could be. But he couldn't help but watch her all the same.

Ginny let out a small sigh and glanced about the room, meeting Draco's eyes for just a second. He held her gaze, curious to see what she would do, and watched as her eyebrows drew together into a frown. She glared at him, as if telling him to stop staring at her, and then promptly drew her attention back to the piano. Draco couldn't help but smile, knowing that she was the only girl in the room who would glare at him for staring at her. All the others would probably think it an honour or some such rubbish, but not Ginny. She didn't care how much money he had or who his family was. Somehow, that intrigued him, yet it was a cause for great annoyance as well. It was the age-old tactic of indifference, and it seemed that even Draco was not impervious.

"Do my eyes deceive me, Cousin, or are you really staring in rapt attention at our dear Miss Weasley?"

Draco blinked and tore his eyes away from Ginny. "I wasn't staring at her."

"Yes you were," Armand sing-songed, grey eyes dancing cheekily. "In fact, you were staring very intently at her."

"Was not," Draco snapped childishly, and folded his arms, looking no more mature than a sulky four-year-old that had had his toy taken from him.

The mulish look on his face deepened as Armand started sniggering, but Draco refused to look at his cousin. So what if he had been staring at her? It wasn't as if he _liked_ her. She just happened to be the most interesting girl in the room. It was nothing special at all.

"Oh _Merlin_," Armand suddenly muttered. "Here comes that poncy flirt that thinks he can make every woman fall in love with him."

Curious as to who had gained his friendly cousin's disapproval, Draco glanced to where Armand was glaring and saw Julian Adderson making his way towards them. A slight sneer formed on Draco's lips. This was one man who Draco did not like and had no intention of liking. Julian Adderson was too nice, too handsome, and too sickeningly charming.

"What's he doing coming over here?" Armand demanded in a stage whisper, and then promptly plastered a broad smile on his face as Julian came closer. "Hello Julian," he greeted cheerfully.

Draco didn't bother to play nice and just glared icily at the older man. This was his house, and he didn't care if the brunet was a guest in it. Julian may use his smiles and compliments to charm everyone else, but he was highly mistaken if he thought he could do the same to Draco. This was one Malfoy that was not going to be taken in by some fallacious flirt, for Draco was sure no one could possibly be that perfect. It was just unnatural.

Julian smiled at the both of them. "Hello, Armand; Draco."

Draco unfolded his arms and lounged back lazily in his seat to make himself appear a bit more confident. Arrogant though he was, he couldn't help but feel like the older man was challenging his status somehow. It was all rather unfair that Julian could be handsome, charming, loved by everyone, _and_ be older than he. The only way Draco knew to counter that was to act more insolent than ever in the hopes of putting the older man in his place. It was perhaps lucky that insolence was something Draco happened to be extremely good at; indeed, one might say he excelled at the act.

He propped his feet up on the footstool and raised his eyes to Julian's face, lifting one pale eyebrow as his mouth curved into a perfect, mocking smirk. "Can I help you, Adderson?"

He heard his cousin choke slightly and knew the younger boy was trying not to laugh. Draco, however, kept his face impassive and continued to stare at the older man in his impertinent way. Julian's face remained just as friendly as before, and his eyes remained just as amused – something that incredibly frustrated Draco. One of the things he most detested about Julian Adderson was that no amount of mockery seemed to affect the man. He just continued to smile and those damned blue eyes continued to dance in that irritating way, which so many woman seemed to swoon over. Of course, Draco was not jealous. He just thought it was stupid the way people treated the older man . . .

"I was wondering if I could have a word with you, actually," Julian replied. "Preferably some place private?"

Draco shared a glance with Armand, who shrugged and gave him a 'you might as well' look. Since Draco actually was curious to know what Julian wanted to talk to him about, he decided it wouldn't hurt to oblige the other man just this one, and so stood gracefully from his chair. They were practically the same height, though Julian was just a little taller, which Draco had naturally always hated.

"Fine," Draco said coolly. "There's a room we can use just down the hall."

Julian nodded, and both men took their leave, then entered the dusky-lit room down the hall – Draco using his wand to turn on the lights so they could see. The room was little more than a rarely used parlour since Narcissa had decided she didn't like the décor and would not sit in it until it was changed. Draco had to admit that he didn't particularly like the sickly green colour either. He curled his lip at the sight of the green curtains, which he thought would be more suitable in a hospital room. Even the seats were the same colour, and Draco had the sudden impression that he was trapped inside a lime.

"You might be surprised why I asked to speak to you," Julian said, interrupting the blond's musings.

Draco turned to face Julian, not even bothering to say anything. It seemed rather pointless to state the obvious.

Julian's mouth twisted slightly, and Draco realised it was the first sign of awkwardness that the older man had ever shown. His curious nature seized on that, and he narrowed his eyes as he stared at the dark-haired man. Just what had Julian called him in here for?

"There is something I need to be made clear," Julian began seriously, folding his arms in an almost defensive manner.

"Oh?"

"I need to know what your intentions towards Ginevra Weasley are."

Draco blinked, not quite sure if he had heard the man correctly. What had Ginevra Weasley to do with this?

"I don't think I understand," Draco replied slowly, still trying to get his head around the matter.

Julian had come to him – actually asked if he could speak privately with him – and it was all because of _her_? That freckled, ungraceful thing that had barged in on him in his library and stole his favourite book? Sure, she was amusing sometimes, and he didn't deny that he was curious about her, but what had that to do with anything?

"I've seen you taking an interest in her that you rarely do, Draco," Julian said stiffly, "and I know you would not invite her to your home for nothing."

"I didn't invite her here," Draco expostulated. "My mother did."

"Is that so?"

Draco stared at him. For once, there was no irritating smile on Julian's lips, no dancing, swoon-making light in his eye; he was sober in bearing and that made the blond pause.

"Just what are you trying to suggest?" Draco asked wryly. "That I like Ginny Weasley?"

"That is how it appears to me."

Draco gave an inelegant snort. "Even if I did like her, I wouldn't tell you. My feelings have got nothing to do with you, Adderson."

"Maybe not, but Ginny is—"

"Oh I get it," Draco interrupted. "You want her for yourself, don't you?" He shook his head in a mock-scolding manner, and his grey eyes glinted with sardonic amusement. "Tut, tut, Julian, your mother won't like that."

Julian stiffened. "That doesn't concern you."

"Yes, well my business doesn't concern you," Draco retorted irritably. "What did you think to achieve by asking me this, anyway? Did you really think I would give her up if I fancied her just because you asked me to?" He laughed, his eyes locking on Julian's with unrivalled scorn. "Perhaps I should be asking you what your intentions are, Adderson. Don't think I don't know about your circumstances."

Julian glared at him for a moment, but then the door suddenly opened, and both men turned in surprise to see Ginny Weasley standing on the threshold, chestnut eyes curiously shifting from one man's face to the next.

Draco cursed under his breath and took a step back from Julian. That girl snooped around far too much for her own good, and he was feeling more than a little worried that she might have overheard them talking. Julian seemed to share this anxiety and ran a hand through his hair as he smiled agitatedly at her.

"Ginny, what are you doing here?" Julian asked. "You didn't hear anything, did you?"

"No," she replied, eyebrows rising slightly. "Should I have?"

"Ah, don't worry then," Julian said, and smiled charmingly as if to reassure her that it was nothing.

Draco rolled his eyes. One day he really thought he might be sick if he had to put up with that smile again. He already felt queasy just looking at it now.

"What were you two doing?" Ginny asked curiously, taking a few more steps into the room.

"None of your business," Draco snapped, throwing her a scowl.

Ginny glared right back at him and probably would have responded with an angry rejoinder, but Julian placed a hand on her arm, quieting her. Draco was floored, surprised to see the fight die out of her eyes. She simply glanced up at Julian and gave him the soppiest smile that the blond had ever seen her wear – oddly reminding him of the smiles she'd used to give Harry Potter back at Hogwarts. It was as if the fiery, spirited woman had been quenched by Julian's presence to be replaced with a dreamy, besotted girl.

"Were you looking for me?" Julian asked with another of his sickening smiles.

Draco had to try not to snort. Honestly, and people called him arrogant? Even he wasn't presumptuous enough to ask such a thing of a woman. To Draco's absolute shock, however, Ginny blushed and lowered her eyes under Julian's gaze. What was wrong with her? Where was that feisty girl he was used to seeing? Surely she wasn't going to let that fallacious flirt deceive her too? And why in Merlin's name was she blushing anyway? All Julian had done was ask a stupid question.

"Well, I saw you come into the room, but then I didn't see you again. I thought—"

She trailed off, blushing again, and Draco could only open and close his mouth like a goldfish out of water. If he could have seen his own expression he would have been horrified, having seen a similar expression on Ronald Weasley's face countless times before and received much amusement from it. As it was, Draco did not know what he looked like in that moment, being too filled with surprise at seeing the girl he was used to having glare daggers at him blush and hide her face like some bashful twit because of Julian Adderson.

"I was just talking to Draco here about some . . . private business," Julian replied smoothly. "It's nothing to worry about. You know I wouldn't leave you without saying anything."

Ginny smiled up at him, her cheeks still faintly stained with pink. "I—I know. Thank you."

Draco folded his arms in disgust. It was time to put a stop to this nauseating display of affection.

"Yes, well, I think our _business_ is done, don't you?" he interposed coldly.

"Indeed," Julian said with a stiff nod.

Before he could say anything more, however, Serino the house-elf appeared before them. She bowed her ridiculously low bow so that her long, pointy nose scraped across the floor.

"Master Draco, there is a man here who wishes to speak to a Mr Julian Adderson."

"I'm he," Julian answered. "What's this about?"

"He did not say, but if you will follow me, sir, I can take you to him. He was very insistent he see you."

"Excuse me," Julian said, nodding to Draco and Ginny, and then followed Serino out of the room.

Draco stared at the door for a moment before turning his eyes away and found himself greeted with Ginny's soppy smile – she was still smiling dreamily at the now closed door.

"Merlin, could you get any more pathetic?" he muttered disdainfully, and started walking to the door.

"What did you say?"

Draco stopped in his tracks and swung around, nearly crashing into Ginny, who had walked towards him in her anger. He took a step back and once more regained his composure. "What I'm saying," he began with a sneer, "is that you look ridiculous."

"What are you talking about?" she asked huffily.

He rolled his eyes and gestured at the door with one hand. "You and him! You turn into some passive little idiot when he's around you."

"I do not!" Ginny exclaimed furiously, her cheeks going just a bit pink, though it was more from anger than embarrassment.

"Yeah, well it certainly looked that way to me. You couldn't stop blushing."

Ginny's face splotched even more with red so that she resembled a sunburnt tomato. "Shut up! You don't know what you're on about!"

"Oh, come off it!" Draco snapped tiredly, giving her a scornful look. "You couldn't get a single word out without blushing, not to mention all those pathetic smiles you kept giving him."

"So what?" she demanded, tilting her chin defiantly up at him.

They had suddenly become very close, but Draco wasn't thinking about that right now. He was more frustrated with how stupid she had been acting before.

Ginny leaned in towards him, making the gap between them vanish even more. "I can like whoever I want, and he likes me too, so I don't see what it matters."

Draco shook his head in pity. For all that she liked to think herself so much mightier than the rest of them, she was truly naïve when it came to the ways of high society. She thought this romance with Julian was a fairy tale where happy endings could be found. How very wrong she was.

He laughed softly, and his expression lost some of its harshness to become simply amused. "I hope you're not expecting anything serious from him, Weasley. He won't marry you. You've got nothing to offer him but your body—" His gaze moved appraisingly down to her feet and then back to her face. "I really don't think that will be enough."

Something hard connected with his face, causing him to recoil back in pain. He held a hand to his now very red cheek, his eyes wide with shock. Their gaze met, but she didn't seem to care that she had just slapped him. She was breathing hard, her eyes filled with so much fury that if he were anyone else he might have taken a step back to save his own skin. As it was, Draco only lowered his hand from his cheek and stared at her wordlessly. There was hurt in her eyes that he had not seen before, and somehow that seemed to snap him to his senses more than the harsh slap she had given him just seconds ago. His stomach twisted unpleasantly. He realised that he had made a very stupid mistake by saying such a thing to her. Even if he hated her – even if he was right that Julian wouldn't marry her – he knew that he had no right to say that about her looks. His mother would probably clout him around the ears if she knew. She had not taught him to be rude to women – in fact, quite the opposite – and he knew that as a gentleman he had just failed spectacularly.

Draco struggled for a moment with what his brain was telling him to do and lowered his gaze to the sickly green floor. "Sorry."

Ginny glared at him, unmoved by his apology. "Somehow I doubt you are. You seem to delight in trying to offend me at every possible moment."

"I said I was sorry, alright?" Draco snapped, lifting his head back up to meet her angry gaze.

He'd apologised, hadn't he? What more did she want? She couldn't possibly expect him to grovel at her feet and beg for forgiveness for stating a fact they both knew to be true. She didn't have the most perfect body in the world, being neither thin nor curvaceous, and she certainly wasn't the most beautiful woman he'd set eyes on. Julian would have to be extremely idiotic to want to give up all he had for a girl like her who had nothing to offer but second-rate goods. Still, Draco couldn't deny that there was so much more to Ginny than her looks, but that was something he saw fit not to reflect upon too much. It was easier to think her irritating and plain than as pretty and intriguing.

Ginny, completely oblivious to his thoughts, only scowled at him. "Yeah, well it's a bit hard to believe you when you look like it cost you a thousand Galleons just to say it."

He narrowed his eyes, feeling more than a little annoyed that she couldn't accept his apology. Didn't she know how much it had cost his pride to say that word to her? _Her_? She didn't even deserve his apology, but then his stomach gave another betraying twist of guilt, and Draco managed to keep his temper in check.

"Look," he said in frustration, not used to having to explain himself or his actions. "I didn't mean what I said back there. Sometimes I just say things without thinking."

She stared at him sceptically for a moment and then gave an irritated huff. "Fine, but I still hate you."

"Yeah, well that's nothing new," he responded dryly. "I think I'd be more worried if you didn't hate me."

"Hmph," was all Ginny managed to say, and contented herself by glaring at him.

Draco stared at the wall, not really caring if she kept scowling at him anyway. All it would achieve was more wrinkles on her part.

Silence fell about them, and Draco suddenly remembered the task he had been set by his father. His face unconsciously broke into a frown. How on earth was he going to find a girl he wanted to marry before the end of the month and get her pregnant too? He'd looked at all the potential girls and found none that he liked. But he was trapped in this now, and he knew that if he didn't make a decision himself, his parents would. The only question was: who would they choose to be his bride?

He cursed under his breath and ran a hand through his hair, completely forgetting that Ginny was still there until his eyes, which had been wildly roaming the room, fell on her face. She was staring at him curiously, her head tilted to the side like an inquisitive bird trying to determine something about him.

"What?" he demanded with a scowl. "Haven't you left yet?"

"Obviously not," Ginny said somewhat dryly, to which Draco only rolled his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"None of your damn business," he snapped, bringing a strange sense of déjà vu to the situation. It seemed like only seconds ago that he had said the exact same thing to her.

"You don't have to get so snappy about it you know," she said calmly. "What are you, some kind of terrier?"

Draco blinked, and his face broke into a puzzled frown. "_What_?"

"You know: one of those yappy little dogs that always snap at people."

"I know what they are," Draco retorted. "I was just wondering why the hell you would call me one."

Ginny shrugged, looking infuriatingly unapologetic. "You just remind me of one. Whenever people come near you, you snap at them just like a terrier. I can't believe I never noticed it before."

"Well, that's just great, Weasley," he responded sarcastically, "but I actually have more important things to do than talk to you about whether or not I could be called a terrier."

"Oh, I don't need your opinion on the matter. I've already decided you're going to be called Mr Terrier from now on."

He glared at her again, his cheeks faintly pink. He wondered how it was she always seemed to get the last word. He was the one who should have had the upper hand here. After all, he had offended her far more harshly by mocking her looks, yet here she was calling him a terrier. It just wasn't right. The world seemed so topsy-turvy when Ginny Weasley was around, and it was also rather humiliating to be compared to a tiny dog that seemed cursed with the dog version of short-man syndrome.

"Whatever," he said with what sounded suspiciously like a huff and strode briskly out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Idiot," she muttered to herself, scowling darkly at the closed door.

She couldn't believe the things he had said to her, let alone about Julian. As if her Julian would be so shallow as to not want to marry her simply because she didn't have connections or money. He already knew what her situation was, and that didn't seem to have put him off at all.

A frown settled on her face, and some of the confidence she felt slipped away. She did have to wonder about one thing: what had Draco meant by saying that he knew what Julian's situation was? She may not have heard all of their conversation, but she had managed to catch that one line, and it had definitely puzzled her. What was it about Julian that she didn't know? And why were they in here having an argument anyway?

"This is all so confusing," she mumbled.

She did not like to think that Julian was keeping secrets from her, and even worse was the thought that Draco seemed to know about it. Perhaps she could get him to tell her? Somehow she doubted Julian would, but Draco might if she annoyed him enough. However, that would mean talking to him again, and she'd already dealt with the arrogant man enough for one day. She didn't think her energy or her temper could handle another round, though she supposed he had been quite civil to her in the morning. Still, he was so horrible and mean.

Ginny allowed a small smile to flitter over her lips as she thought of her parting shot.

"A terrier," she murmured. "Now _that_ had been something worth remembering. Draco Malfoy, the terrier."

Still smiling to herself, Ginny walked out of the room and decided that she would just go to bed. Before she could follow through with this plan, however, she caught a glimpse of Julian coming back from his meeting with the strange man and was once more struck by how strained he seemed to be with his tense shoulders and frustrated eyes. She could see him mumbling to himself, and, hoping that she might be able to find out what was going on, Ginny ducked behind one of the tapestries. She was surprised to discover that it led to a secret passageway, but she quickly turned her thoughts back to Julian as she heard his footsteps come closer.

"Who do they think they are demanding me to answer to them?" he muttered darkly, a furious expression on his face.

It was a shock for Ginny to see him actually angry, with not a trace of his usual good-humoured smile. He gave an exasperated sigh as he stopped just on the other side of the tapestry. Ginny's heart started pounding in her chest, and she sucked in a breath, not wanting him to catch her eavesdropping on him.

"I suppose I don't have much of a choice," Julian continued. "_Damn it_."

Ginny's brow creased into a frown. What on earth was he talking about? Who was he supposed to answer to? And why didn't he have a choice in the matter? What in Merlin's name was going on?

Julian sighed again and then trudged down the hallway and out Ginny's sight. She stood there for a moment in puzzled silence, but realised that no amount of thinking would bring her any closer to the truth of the matter. All she knew was that something was going on with Julian that he was not telling her about, and it clearly was not as trivial as he had pretended it to be.

She sighed and turned away from the tapestry. It was then that her eyes caught the dark twisting tunnel that led down to wherever secret passages led to. Curiosity got the better of common sense, and Ginny started walking down the dark path – the torches on the wall bursting to life with each step she took, casting flickering shadows along the walls.

The passage seemed to go on forever, and Ginny was beginning to get more than a little frustrated. She refused to turn back though, determined to find out what was on the other end. She'd come this far. There was no point turning back now.

"I can't do this, Armand. I must have been mental to accept such a task."

Ginny stopped and listened intently. That had to be Draco's voice. She moved closer so that she could hear the muffled voices more clearly. This was one conversation that she did not want to miss.

"Yeah, but you know that if you say you're not going to do it, Aunt and Uncle will just choose someone for you. They're determined to see you married."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Draco demanded, and Ginny heard his chair scrape along the ground as if he had stood up. His footsteps paced up and down, and she edged a bit closer to the sound of their voices.

"Look, I'm sure you can find someone you like, Draco. I mean it's not like you have to choose someone from here."

"Are you serious? You don't honestly think that my mother will let me marry anyone else. She wants the girl to be from a good family. Why else do you think she invited all those women here?"

Armand sniggered slightly. "Well then why'd she invite Ginny Weasley? She's not exactly from the perfect family, is she?"

There was silence for a moment, as if Draco was thinking over something. Ginny heard the sound of the chair scraping again, and she knew that he had just collapsed onto the seat.

"I can't believe I didn't see it before."

"See what?" Armand asked curiously.

"Don't you see?" Draco demanded. "My mother goes and handpicks these women to bring to this party, which tells me clearly enough that I have to choose one of them, and does it knowing full well that I would never consider any of them anyway since I've known half of them my whole life. But then she invites Ginevra Weasley, who is so different from all of them that I will have no choice but to look at her."

"What are you trying to say, Draco?"

"I'm trying to say that my mother wants me to marry Ginny Weasley."

Ginny gasped, not quite sure she had heard correctly. It couldn't be right. Why would Narcissa want her to marry her son? Better yet, why would Draco ever want to marry her? They didn't like each other at all.

"But your family hate the Weasleys. Why would Aunt want that?"

"Most likely because even if Father doesn't like the Weasleys, and even if their family is not the most respectable, they have some of the most ancient pureblood in their veins." Draco paused for a moment. "I think my mother has been planning this for a long time. She liked Ginevra from the first moment she saw the girl, and everyone knows our mothers were once friends. She's probably taken it upon herself to bring the families together or some such rot."

"So what are you going to do?"

There was another pause, and Ginny suddenly felt her nose twitching unpleasantly. She scrunched up her face, trying with all her might to hold back the sneeze that threatened to come out, but it was too late. A loud sneeze erupted from her mouth, and whatever it was that Draco was going to do was never discovered. In two quick strides the tapestry had been pulled back and Ginny found herself greeted by a pair of fierce grey eyes. It was Draco Malfoy, and he did not look happy to see her.

"_Weasley_. I should have known."

Ginny didn't know what to say. All she knew was that right now she would have given anything to be anywhere else other then under Draco's furious gaze.

"How much did you hear?" he demanded.

Ginny had the grace to blush, and lowered her face in embarrassment. "Enough to know what's going on."

"Well, that's just fantastic," Draco muttered, his cheeks faintly tinged with pink.

Armand's boyish snigger came from behind him, and that only made Ginny feel more uncomfortable. She looked up at Draco again, who was staring at her with an unreadable expression. It seemed he couldn't decide whether to be angry or embarrassed. Ginny had to admit that she was feeling much the same.

"I, um … should go," Ginny said quietly.

Draco nodded his head, though his eyes lingered on her face in a piercing way.

Suddenly, feeling even more uncomfortable, Ginny quickly walked off the other way back to her room in an attempt to put as much space between her and Draco as possible. Armand's laughter followed her down the passage, and Ginny could feel her cheeks heating terribly in the dim light. She couldn't believe what she had heard; couldn't believe what Narcissa had been planning for her. The only comfort she had was that Draco would never ask her to marry him.

_Would he?_

* * *

**Notes:**

For Lia's benefit: a 'town miss' is a woman of the town, who knows all the tricks of flirting and fashion.


	9. Broken Fortunes

**Broken Fortunes**

Ginny tossed and turned in her bed, fighting against the sheets, which had twisted uncomfortably around her body, trapping her in place. She did not want to think about what she had overheard that night, finding the conversations far too confusing for her to comprehend. How could she understand Narcissa's wish for her to marry Draco when the woman had never hinted at it? And what was Draco going to do now that he knew what his mother wanted? Would he go against Narcissa's wishes and choose someone else for his wife, or would he ask Ginny to marry him because that was what was expected?

It was frightening to ponder, for Ginny recalled very vividly her parents' warning that if a man asked her to marry him, she would have to accept due to the bonding magic placed on her as a pureblood witch. She did not want to marry Draco – she wanted nothing to do with him at all. It frightened and angered her to think that she might be forced into marriage because of some stupid pureblood rule made over a hundred years ago.

And then there was Julian: a man whom she loved, but one that seemed to be changing before her eyes – or, at least, revealing a side of himself that she did not understand. She couldn't help but wonder if he really did care for her as he had led her to believe. Or was Draco right in saying that she was nothing but an amusing distraction? She hated that she didn't understand Julian any more, and it bothered her that he was hiding things from her – things that were serious enough for him to lose all sign of his usual good-humour.

Ginny sighed and rolled back over in the bed. She just wanted things to go back to the way they were – back to when Julian could make her world brighter with a simple smile. She didn't want this strain that seemed to linger in the air whenever they talked nor receive the fake smiles he gave in order to keep up appearances. She wanted the real him, but it was difficult to find that man now. It had been a long time since he had looked at her with that intense passion he had shown that day at the picnic. Although he still laughed and talked with her, she couldn't help but feel that there was little emotion behind his actions. There was something wrong – something that was deeply troubling him, though she knew not what.

Everything had turned upside down lately: first Draco, now Julian. She wondered what would be next? Her future felt completely out of her hands, but Ginny wasn't about to give up just yet. There had to be something she could do – if not to help Julian, then at least to stop a marriage between herself and Draco from happening. She knew that Draco did not love her, but Narcissa was a hard woman, and Ginny did not doubt that the blonde could get her way if she really wanted to. Ginny could not rely on the weak hope that Draco's hate might override duty. She knew enough about society to realise that no one went against his duty, not even people like Draco Malfoy. Something had to be done.

She sighed irritably once more and rolled over to the other side of the bed, trying desperately to find some sort of comfortable position while at the same time searching for a resolution to her problems. The most logical option to take was to just go home and forget about everything that had happened in London. She knew her mother would be upset that she had not found a husband (for Ginny had started to wonder if that had been her mother's scheme from the very beginning), but her father would welcome her back to the Burrow happily enough. Celia would probably be disappointed, but Ginny did not doubt that her pleasure-seeking godmother would pick up her spirits soon enough. Narcissa and Draco, naturally, would soon forget about her, and all of society would move on as if she had not existed at all.

It was an ideal choice to take – one that would solve everything – but Ginny was reluctant to go through with it. She could not bear the thought of leaving Julian, and she hated to think of how Kitty would react. She had friends here – friends that she loved – and to leave now would be to abandon them all. Besides, it just seemed so selfish and cowardly to run away simply because she was scared of being forced into marrying Draco. No doubt others would call her a fool for staying – even a fool for not wanting to marry Draco in the first place – but Ginny was young and in love, and marrying Draco or running back home to her family seemed like such terrible futures to her.

"Just stop thinking about it," she muttered.

But this proved very difficult advice to follow. Her exhausted mind could not help but dwell on her worries, so Ginny continued to toss and turn in her bed, getting snatches of sleep when her eyelids grew too heavy to stay open. Even then, her dreams seemed to be filled with marriages and frightening proposals, and she would wake up in horror, half expecting to see piercing grey eyes staring down at her.

By the time the sun had risen to signal the new morning, as well as the third day of Ginny's stay in Malfoy Manor, the redhead was fast asleep in bed, so drained from her night's worries that she could not have woken up even if she had wanted to. Serino came to call her for breakfast, but Ginny did not budge an inch at the elf's entreaties. So she was left to sleep, with only a faint crease on her brow showing that her dreams were far from peaceful. When Ginny finally did wake, it was to find the sun fully positioned in the sky and her own mind far from comforted. She was still just as troubled as she had been last night, if not more because of the heavy feeling that seemed to have wrapped around her body like a thick, suffocating blanket.

Ginny groaned in protest at the cheery light that filled the room and flopped over in the bed, hiding her face under the blankets. Unbidden, scalding tears slipped down her cheeks, and it was then that she realised just how horrid she felt. Her body was aching all over, and she had the oddest sensation that she was freezing cold yet burning hot at the same time. Her nose kept running, and her head seemed to be swaying sickeningly, though she was not moving at all.

"Miss."

It was the house-elf again.

"What?" Ginny mumbled, not bothering to raise her head from her dark haven.

"Mistress wishes to know if you will be coming down for lunch."

Ginny lay there for a moment, eyes still shut tight, feeling her tears splash into warm puddles on her cheeks. She felt awful, but she had always hated staying in bed, and she did not want those horrible women to think that she was hiding up here simply because they had been mean to her. Even worse was the thought that Draco might think she was hiding from him. With that in mind, Ginny thrust the blankets off her body and tentatively placed one foot on the carpeted floor. The other foot soon followed, and she stood rather shakily to her feet. Her head was still swimming, but the one comfort she could take was that she hadn't collapsed onto the floor, though that perhaps was not much of a comfort when she really thought about it.

"Is Miss feeling well? She looks very pale," Serino observed in a squeaky voice.

Ginny held a hand to her forehead and wondered if this was really the smartest thing to do. She'd be lucky if she even managed to get down the stairs. Every step she took seemed to cause the world to tilt sickeningly, as if she was trapped in some leaning box that couldn't stay in one point and had to follow the weight of her feet hitting the floor.

"I'm alright," Ginny mumbled.

She made her way to the wardrobe and pulled out a simple green dress with a white slip underneath, which she then tossed onto the bed. Serino seemed to sense that Ginny needed some assistance and quickly came to undress her from her nightwear and help her into the clothes. Ginny thanked the little elf and made her way to the mirror. She was shocked by her reflection and briefly considered staying up in her room after all. Her skin was far too pale, making her freckles stand out terribly. Her eyes were dull and rimmed with red from the hot tears that kept threatening to fall, and her lips had lost the pinkish tint they once had. The only colour that graced her face was the flushed pink on her cheeks that told all too well of her fever. She looked very ill indeed, and what little confidence Ginny had seemed to fade along with her healthy bloom of colour.

Ginny sighed at her pitiful appearance as she plaited her hair and then followed Serino out of the room. It was a slow process and more than once she had to lean against the wall for support. However, she did manage to get down to the dining room without much drama. She pushed open the door and saw the guests seated at the table, eating their lunch. Nearly every pair of eyes lifted at her entrance and stared at her curiously – though some just sneered.

Ginny sucked in a small breath, hoping to boost her confidence. Black dots swarmed before her eyes, but she ignored the sudden dizziness and quickly took her seat at the table next to Theodore Nott. She held a hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes from view, and took deep breaths as she tried to regain some sense of clarity. The world was spinning so fast that Ginny felt like she was trapped in a merry-go-round that would not stop no matter how much she insisted she had had enough.

"Are you all right?" Theodore asked with some concern.

She pulled her hand away and gave him a weak smile. "Fine."

He stared at her searchingly for a moment but simply nodded his head. Ginny knew that he could tell she was far from all right, but she was glad that he had not pushed the matter further and created a scene. No one needed to know that she was sick, and she was banking on the hope that she would start to feel better as the day progressed so that she could at least do something to entertain herself. However, if this head-pounding dizziness kept up, there didn't seem much hope of doing anything but heading straight back to bed.

"Miss Weasley, you did not come to breakfast," Sephrina commented in her sickly sweet voice, though her eyes remained hard. "We quite missed you."

Ginny's teacup wobbled in her hand and some of the scolding liquid spilled over the top, burning her fingers. She ignored the pain, feeling a little too light-headed to care anyway, and gave a polite smile to the horse-like woman sitting opposite her. "I'm afraid I slept in."

Sephrina seemed put-out by the indifferent response, but Ginny barely noticed. She was in no mood for these women and simply did not have the energy to put up a fight. It was too draining to get angry and too draining to even begin to try to think of something witty to say back. If they wanted to be catty and childish then so be it; she was far too tired to deal with it today.

Ginny turned her gaze to Narcissa, who was at the foot of the table, and gave her an apologetic look. Though she had slipped up in her manners in this home with Draco over these past few days, and indeed with some of the other guests, she would never presume to do the same to Narcissa. Ginny still knew where her duty lay, and she knew that no matter how much she resented Narcissa's schemes to run her future, she had to make her apologies where they were due.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, Mrs Malfoy," Ginny said formally. "I don't know what came over me this morning."

"That's quite all right, Ginevra," Narcissa replied calmly, though she stared at Ginny in an alarmingly piercing way. "I'm sure you had your reasons."

For a moment, Ginny wondered if Draco had told his mother about the eavesdropping incident last night. The woman's cool gaze told nothing of her feelings, but there was a searching gleam hidden in those blue depths that suggested to Ginny that Narcissa at least knew something – even if it was not the full details. It was disconcerting, and Ginny hoped that Draco had had enough sense not to tell his mother what had happened. No doubt it would only spur the woman into further action.

Ginny's eyes flickered down to the head of the table where Draco was sitting. It was strange seeing him again after overhearing his conversation with Armand last night. Judging by the lack of laughter at his end of the table, it seemed as though he wasn't exactly thrilled by last night's conversation either. No doubt he was troubled by his own thoughts on what to do. Ginny knew that he had no desire to marry her, but she had to wonder about him sometimes. There was just no predicting what he would do. More than once he had surprised her during her sojourn in London. He had as good as told her that he was intrigued by her, lent her his coat and lied for her when he had found her at the stream, and just yesterday he had let her read his books when it had been clear from the start that he had not wanted her to be in the library in the first place. However, Ginny wondered if that was enough for him to throw away the animosity they shared. She certainly hoped not, but she knew she would have to confront him at some point to find out what he was going to do. She could not keep fretting away and have all her enjoyment ruined simply because Draco Malfoy might suddenly ask her to marry him. It was just ridiculous. She refused to live that way.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Theodore asked quietly.

Ginny jumped slightly. She had not known that he had been watching her and gave him a quick, nervous smile. He did not return it, though his eyes, which even now were grim and serious, took on a glint of concern. It was in that moment that Ginny was very glad she had been open with the ex-Slytherin during her first night at Malfoy Manor. She had truly found a friend in Theodore Nott. He may be reserved and difficult to converse with, but he cared, and that was more than what she could say about the rest of the guests. It was a relief to know that she had one ally who was neither a plotting Malfoy nor a handsome, dark-haired man who seemed to take delight in confusing her.

She gave Theodore a much more genuine smile, hoping that it would reassure him that she was indeed all right, and then glanced back at the table where a delicious lunch had been set out. There was cold chicken and beef, breads of all different flavours and types, as well as a great assortment of fruit, savouries, juices, salads, and some dishes Ginny had never even heard of. Normally she would have eaten to her fill, but right now she just felt ill, and looking at the amount of food displayed so lavishly before her only made her feel even more sick to her stomach.

Ginny could still feel Theodore watching her, so, not wanting to make him any more worried, she half-repressed a sigh and placed some of the cold chicken on her plate. She picked at it unenthusiastically and, when that failed to satisfy her, attempted to eat a peach instead. That did not manage to spark any interest in her appetite either. Suddenly Ginny's stomach started protesting against the food, and she felt like she had a whole bunch of snakes wriggling around inside her. She thought it prudent to stop eating, not wishing to make a spectacle of herself by vomiting at the lunch table. That would be a shocking thing indeed.

"I'll be leaving today," Theodore said after a moment.

Ginny looked up from her barely touched plate and stared at the brunet beside her. "You will be? Why?"

"I cannot stay for the whole week," he explained. "Since my father died, I've had to take care of the family business. I received a letter from my mother yesterday explaining to me that things have not been going so well." He gave his small, tight-lipped smile that Ginny found rather comforting in an odd way. "I just wanted to let you know before I left that I will be taking your advice and will persevere in my courtship of Katherine."

"I'm glad to hear it," Ginny replied with a smile.

She thought Theodore was a nice young man, even if he was serious and sometimes painfully reserved. She did not doubt that he would make Kitty a fine husband; she knew she just had to give her friend a little prod in the right direction to make things work. If only her romantic life could be so easily remedied. It seemed, however, that Ginny was doomed to complications.

"You will be alright here, won't you?" Theodore asked suddenly, once more shocking Ginny by his perception.

Sometimes, she wondered if he was just particularly good at reading people, or if she was just ridiculously easy to read. Either way, Theodore Nott had a way of knowing how she was feeling before she had even said anything.

Ginny shrugged lightly, not really wanting him to worry and also not wanting to admit that she was not really sure herself. Things were so complicated now. She had no idea what was going to happen. Would Julian open up to her again or would he keep lying about whatever was going on in his life? Would Draco ask her to marry him or would he ignore his mother's wishes and do what he wanted? These were questions she could not hope to answer, and they were far too intricate for her to explain to Theodore Nott at a lunch table with dozens of prying ears listening in.

"I think I'll be okay."

He leaned in closer, and Ginny felt his hand close over hers under the table. "I know I may not know you very well, Ginevra, but you are a friend of Katherine's, and so you are a friend of mine. I cannot offer you much, but I can offer you my help when you need it."

"Thank you," Ginny replied softly, feeling oddly touched by his words.

He gave her a nice smile and for a moment all her worries seemed to melt away. He just had a way of making her trust him, for she knew he was no man dedicated to triviality and joke-making. He was serious in his offer and serious in his friendship. It was a reassuring thought.

Daphne Greengrass suddenly tapped a delicate finger on his sleeve. He muttered a quick apology to Ginny, and then turned away to listen to the flirtatious blonde's chattering. Ginny watched him talk to Daphne for a moment, then glanced around the table, noticing that there were more empty chairs than usual. Obviously, Theodore was not the first to leave, and it was then that Ginny realised there was no sign of Julian. She frowned to herself, wondering where he could possibly be. No one else seemed to care, however, for his absence remained unremarked.

Ginny glanced back at Theodore, who had escaped Daphne's clutches with a dexterity only he seemed to be able to achieve, and wondered if he knew anything about Julian's sudden disappearance.

"Where is Julian?"she asked.

"He left this morning," Theodore responded, helping himself to more food.

"What?" Ginny exclaimed, not quite able to believe her ears.

Hadn't he said just last night that he would not leave without telling her? Why would he leave now? Was it because of that man who had come to him last night, demanding that he answer to 'them'?

"Did he say why?" she asked anxiously.

"From what I know, it seems that he had urgent business he needed to attend to. I imagine he'll be back later. His belongings are still in his room."

Ginny frowned. What could this business possibly be that was constantly calling him away? She wondered why she had never thought about it before. He owned a vineyard in Italy, but it wasn't even the season for winemaking, so he could not possibly be busy with that. What was it that troubled him, then? And why was he so intent on keeping it secret from everyone?

It wasn't that she didn't trust him – surely someone so good could not possibly be doing anything dangerous. But that did not mean that danger could not find him. The dark circles that veiled his eyes told of sleepless nights, suggesting that this had been going on for a while. It seemed clear that whatever had been bothering him had not arisen suddenly out of thin air. She just wished she knew what it was.

"Why do you ask?" Theodore asked with a puzzled frown.

"It's nothing," Ginny said quickly, managing to force out a smile despite the pounding stabs of pain attacking her head. "Nothing at all."

**OOOO**

Theodore had left after lunch, and Ginny stared at the spot where he had stood, feeling a strange sense of loss settling over her. There were still four days left at Malfoy Manor and most of the guests that had been nice to her – even if it was only in a minuscule way – had left. Only Armand remained, and he was far too much in Draco's confidence for Ginny's liking. She felt like anything she said to him would only be repeated to his cousin, and that was not a comforting thought considering the situation they were in. As far as Ginny was concerned, Draco was the enemy now, and one did not fraternise with the enemy's friends.

She turned around and walked back up the steps to the house, closing her eyes slightly as the overwhelming dizziness returned. She swayed dangerously, like a spinning top about to topple over, and reached out to steady herself on the wall. This was not what she had planned her day to be at all. Being sick at someone else's home was never a nice feeling, but being sick at the Malfoys' home could only be described as a nightmare.

"Are you alright, Ginevra?" a calm voice asked.

Breathing shakily, Ginny glanced up and met Narcissa Malfoy's cool gaze, only vaguely noticing that the blue eyes watching her held just the smallest gleam of satisfaction. If this was a little out of the ordinary, Ginny was in no state to be reflecting over it. Her cheeks had gone deathly pale and her brain seemed to be humming with a horrible buzzing that would not stop, as if she was trapped in a room with a hundred Muggle televisions stuck on blue screen. Ginny knew that it was time for her pride to bow in defeat and accept the help she needed. She could not take this anymore.

"No," she said in a weak voice, sagging slightly against the wall as her vision started clouding. "I'm not alright at all."

A firm grip latched around Ginny's elbow just as her body felt like it would crumple underneath her, and then she found herself being half dragged back up through the house, all the way to her bedroom. Narcissa threw open the door and led her inside.

"You appear to have a touch of influenza, Ginevra," she said calmly as she guided Ginny to the bed. "I'll get Serino to give you a potion that will help take away the pain. In the mean time, you should get some rest."

Ginny mumbled her thanks and promptly collapsed onto the bed as Narcissa left the room. She didn't think she could have kept on standing anyway. Her legs were as wobbly as jelly, and the aches in her body seemed to be increasing by the minute until she felt as if she had just belly-flopped face first into a pool of water.

_So much for getting better throughout the day_, Ginny thought sourly.

She sighed and tugged the blankets back over her, closing her eyes as she drifted off into an uneasy sleep. When she awoke again, the curtains to her room had been pulled, but she could still see a pale slither of the moon peeping through the gap. Clearly, she had slept for a very long time.

Ginny rolled over onto her back and glared at the ceiling. Everything just seemed to be going wrong. She felt a sudden desire to scream – or cry. Crying ended up winning the inward debate and, looking very sad and pathetic, Ginny curled up in a ball while fat tear-droplets slipped down her cheeks.

"This is so stupid," she muttered, shivering.

After several more minutes of cursing and unhappy grumbling, it suddenly became apparent to Ginny that there was a chance that Julian might be back from wherever he had gone. It was a fragile hope considering her luck, but Ginny clung to it all the same, knowing that right now the only thing that could draw even the smallest smile out of her would be to see his face. It didn't matter that he had been acting strangely or that he had lied to her; what mattered was that right now she was feeling ill to the point of wanting to die, and he was the only one she could see comforting her in this cold and uninviting home.

Ginny pushed the heavy blankets off her and stepped onto the floor. She shivered again and feebly wrapped her arms around her body to try to warm herself against the sudden rush of cold that swept over her. She stared at her arms, which were covered in goosebumps, and suddenly realised that she was only wearing her flimsy nightgown. Ginny vaguely wondered how she changed into it while she had been sleeping. Had the elf changed her? Or perhaps Narcissa had done it after calling Serino?

Not really knowing the answer, and not really caring either way, Ginny simply put on her dressing gown and then made her woozy way to the door. It didn't matter that she was only wearing a thin nightdress to cover her body, nor did it matter that the dressing gown was rather transparent. What mattered was finding Julian and getting him to talk to her. She needed to hear his voice and, more importantly, she needed her fears to be eased.

Ginny opened the door to her bedroom and dragged her aching body down the hallway, looking the perfect picture of a heroine from a melodrama. Her mouth was set in a grim line and her eyes seemed oddly bright from the tears that still clung to her lashes. Her hair was loose and fell freely down below her waist, giving her an absurdly youthful appearance. She looked like a child that had lost her mother with her wide, staring eyes and trembling lips. As she trudged down the hallway in her clumsy, dispirited way, she almost felt like it too.

A sudden rush of nausea swept over her, and Ginny once more found her legs shaking beneath her weight. She swayed helplessly, leaning slowly to the left, then to the right. The piercing buzzing once more started echoing in her brain. With tears gathering at her eyes, Ginny placed her hands over her face as a smothering blackness closed over her mind. Hands quickly shot out of nowhere and grabbed at her waist to stop her from falling, and Ginny felt a sudden feeling of déjà vu as she quickly lowered her hands to see Julian staring down at her. Beautiful, sweet relief swept through her as she stared into that familiar face, but taking another look at him made her pause in her mental celebrations.

He looked pale – almost as pale as she – and the dark shadows under his eyes had increased dramatically, so that his eyes, which normally danced with such charm, now just seemed too large for his face and were more than a little strained. She could see the pain he felt just by looking into those blue irises eyes. It was like a shadow was lurking inside him, and seeing her had only made that shadow darker. His mouth was curved down into a frown, and his hair looked like it had faced many hours of having agitated fingers run through the black locks. She had been right in thinking that all was not well with him, and as she stared at his haggard appearance, she had a feeling that whatever it was had not been solved either.

"Ginny, what are you doing out here when you're so sick? You should be in bed."

He sounded tired and hoarse, as if he had just been shouting, and Ginny couldn't help but flinch at the impatient bite in his voice. What had caused this sudden change? Why was he being so short with her when he was normally so gentle? It was frightening, and as he removed his hands from her waist and took a step back, Ginny felt a sharp stab of panic flare inside her. Somehow, she just knew that whatever had been bothering him had worsened. The Julian she knew and had fallen in love with over these past few weeks was fast disappearing.

"I wanted to know if you had come back," she admitted in a small voice. "I missed you at lunch."

She hated how needy she sounded; hated the fact that she was the one who had to seek him out when it was clear that he knew she had been sick and had not visited her upon his return. She had the sudden urge to cry again, but she determinedly held her tears back, not wanting him to see her crumble so easily. She knew she was just vulnerable from all the stress and from her illness, but that did not change the fact that right now she felt like she was losing the man she loved. He just seemed so different, and though he had said nothing to give her any real alarm, she did not like the fact that he would not even look her in the eye.

It was true that there had never been any agreement between them that they would go together, but something had happened that day at the picnic. Ginny had already been harbouring feelings for him, of course, but only then had she seriously considered that he might feel something for her back. There had been no doubt when she had met his gaze that he cared about her, maybe even loved her, but now . . . now all sign of those feelings had gone.

"You should be in bed, Ginny," he said more softly, though he still did not meet her eyes.

"Is that all you can say?" Ginny asked quietly, feeling oddly crushed by his soft remark.

It was said so dismissively, and she suddenly felt very silly for having come out here at Merlin knew what hour to find him.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, disrupting those soft black strands even more. His eyes finally met hers, and Ginny was disconcerted to see a hint of frustration creep into them. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know . . ."

She swallowed against the hard lump building in her throat. This was not what she had expected her reunion with Julian to be. He looked angry and upset, and she just felt sick and horrible. This was not how it was supposed to be at all.

Julian stared at her for a moment and then let out a small sigh, and his eyes softened just a fraction. "Ginny, no matter how much you want me to say those words, I can't say them. I can't give you what you want, do you understand?"

She shook her head, blinking furiously as tears welled up in her eyes, and tentatively reached out to touch his hands. "You don't mean that. You _can't_ mean that."

It was a pitiful attempt to deny his words, but denial was all she had now. Her fears were finally being realised. She just didn't understand why he would change so quickly. How could he show all the signs of loving her one day and then be pushing her away so coldly the next? It was too confusing, and she hated that he was doing this to her. He was the one who had made her fall in love with him. He was the one that had flirted and smiled, charming his way into her heart so that she could not have felt anything else but love for him. And now was he going to pretend like none of that had happened? Was he really just going to walk away?

He pulled his hands away from hers and turned his back on her. "It's true."

"But . . ."

She shook her head again and bit hard on her trembling lip to stop the sob that threatened to escape. How could this be true? How could this be happening?

"What about us?" she asked weakly, her voice catching slightly. "Does my love mean nothing to you at all?"

He turned back to face her and Ginny finally caught a glimpse of emotion in his eyes. There was pain, so much pain, and as he walked forward and grasped her shaking hands in his, she felt her heart flutter with hope. Just maybe he did love her.

"Your love means everything to me," he said in a low voice, his eyes meeting her tear-filled ones with such desperation that Ginny knew he was telling the truth. "Believe me when I say that if circumstances were different I would have no qualms in asking you to marry me right now, but I can't . . ."

"Why not?" Ginny demanded, not caring a scrap for his vague excuses. He had as good as admitted that he loved her. Shouldn't that be enough?

"You don't understand," he muttered, once more letting go off her hands.

"Is it because of your mother?"

He shook his head, not even looking at her now.

"Then what?"

Julian sighed again and stared at his hands, and a dark frown settled on his face. "I have nothing to offer you."

Ginny blinked. How could _he_ have nothing to offer _her_? He was from a rich family, had some of the best connections a person could want, and also happened to be excessively handsome. If she were a girl bent on getting the perfect husband, he would be it.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, laughing.

"I mean that I don't have anything. I've lost everything, Ginny. I just found out this morning that some of my land has to be sold in order to pay my debts."

Her laughter stopped immediately. Just looking at his crestfallen expression told her clearly enough that he was telling the truth. So this is what Draco had meant last night. He had known about Julian's monetary situation.

"What happened?" she asked.

He was quiet for a moment, and Ginny suddenly felt a stab of worry. How could he have possibly lost everything? She knew he was rich – or, at least, had been – so she had to wonder how this could have happened.

"I gambled . . . and lost."

"You—you lost all your money to gambling?"

"Not just my money," Julian admitted. "I'm in so much debt and my lands so encumbered that there is no hope in ever getting my inheritance back unless the luck changes to my favour somehow."

Ginny couldn't believe this. How could he have been so stupid as to lose everything to gambling? _Gambling_!

"But your mother – she has money. I mean, she's the one who has taken me out into society—"

"My mother lives off the money my father left to her," Julian explained. "It was a decent enough sum, but not nearly enough to cover the debts I have created over the years. We're actually a lot poorer than you would think." He sighed, though there was something very unapologetic about the way he carried himself. "It's my fault this happened, but I can't help myself; it's in my blood. My uncle Alfred was a gambler, as was my grandfather, and his father . . ."

Ginny wasn't listening anymore. She still couldn't believe what she was hearing. Even more worrying was the fact that Celia had been holding extravagant parties in her honour. All that money wasted . . .

"But this is awful!" Ginny exclaimed. "Why didn't either of you tell me that you couldn't afford to pay for my coming out? All that money wasted on stupid dresses and parties; it could have been used to pay your debts!"

Julian chuckled, which Ginny found rather odd.

"I wouldn't worry about that if I were you," he said, amusement still quivering in his voice. "My mother likes to hold extravagant parties anyway so that people will not question her status in society. Besides, it would be a waste to put all that money into paying my debts when I'd just incur more the next night."

For a moment Ginny could only open and close her mouth wordlessly, but then she realised there was no point trying to figure out the strange mentalities that society people held. Her frugal mind could never even hope to fathom why people in debt only put themselves into more debt to keep up with fashion, and she would never be able to grasp why Julian could not feel even the slightest remorse for losing all his inheritance to cards and die.

"But why does this stop us from getting engaged?" she asked with a frown. "Surely you don't think I would care that you're poor."

He shifted uncomfortably, and Ginny suddenly realised that there was more to this than just having no money. He was not telling her something.

"You may not care, Ginny," he said quietly, "but I do."

She stared at him in puzzled silence for a moment and then everything started to sink in. He would not marry her because _she_ was poor, because _she_ had nothing to offer him.

"So that's it then?" Ginny responded with a shaky laugh, suddenly feeling incredibly idiotic.

She had spent all that time putting her energy into loving this man who she had thought was so perfect, but, in the end, he was just like everyone else. He wanted money and status just as much as the next person. And with the crushing of her dreams came the burning sensation of tears.

"Ginny, I—"

She shook her head and instantly regretted the action as the throbbing started up again and black dots swam before her eyes. The combination of everything that had happened that day, as well as the discovery that she had just made, was overwhelming. She just wanted it to stop.

Julian kept talking to her, trying to explain to her why he had to make this choice, but Ginny didn't want to hear it anymore. She turned around and started walking away, even as the loud ringing in her ears became all the more violent. Her vision blurred, and she vaguely heard the sound of a door opening and sudden footsteps rushing towards her before she realised, with an out-of-body sort of detachment, that she was falling. Arms encircled her waist, and, completely disorientated, she glanced up to catch a glimpse of a pair of piercing grey eyes looking down at her before the world went black.


	10. The Proposal

**The Proposal**

Draco stared down at the redhead in his arms, noting the tears that still clung to her lashes. Her body hung limp and heavy in his hold, curving down in his arms as if they were both dancing the tango, and he was simply dipping her into a dramatic sweep. As it was, they were not dancing. Ginny had simply fainted and he had caught her just in time before she had crashed to the floor. It had been a tense moment. He was not sure if his brain had even had time to register what was really happening when he had opened the door. All he had known was that Ginny was falling – falling so fast that it had caused a sickening jolt to his stomach, and then he had somehow moved with impossible speed to catch her. Now, as he held her securely in his arms, everything else seemed to fall into place, including the fact that Julian was standing only a few feet away.

Julian shifted restlessly as he stared at Ginny's unconscious form, and Draco's brow creased into a frown. He did not like Julian, and he did not like the fact that Ginny seemed to have fainted because of him. It did not take a genius to put two and two together. Julian had done something to upset her, and as much as Ginny irritated Draco, he felt strangely protective of her – especially when she was looking so fragile and vulnerable in his arms.

"What did you do to her?" Draco demanded, looping an arm around her waist and holding her close to him so that she would not fall again – and so that he could stand properly.

At any other time he might have wondered about the strange situation he was in, perhaps allowing his mind to dwell on the warm body pressed up against his, but at this moment he was too filled with angry suspicion towards Julian to really allow the situation to sink in. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

Julian lifted his chin defiantly, and his eyes gleamed with a haughtiness that was rarely seen on him. Gone were the charming smiles and dancing blue eyes. He looked every part the aristocrat that he was. Clearly, Julian did not like Draco insinuating that this was his fault. But Draco knew there could be no other explanation. Ginny was not a silly, weak girl. She would not cry for no reason, let alone faint.

"Don't throw this back at me," Julian snapped, folding his arms defensively. "She fainted because she's sick. I haven't done a thing to her."

"Don't give me that rubbish," Draco retorted, narrowing his eyes. "I'm not blind."

"If you're aiming to frighten me, Malfoy, you're not going to get your wish. I'm not intimidated by a little boy like you."

"Frighten you?" Draco echoed with a mocking laugh. "I couldn't care less how you feel, but you should feel guilty. You're quite the hypocrite to stand there acting like nothing's wrong while Weasley is lying unconscious in my arms." He lifted one pale eyebrow. "Or have you forgot that you were the one who wanted to warn me off her so that you could have her for yourself?"

Julian glared.

"What's the matter?" Draco taunted, smirking. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Shut up, you little brat," Julian spat, and actually took a step towards him.

Draco felt just a little alarmed, but he managed to remain calm. He figured that Julian wouldn't really hurt him while he still held Ginny. She might get hurt too.

"You don't know anything," Julian continued coldly. "What's between Ginny and I has nothing to do with you, and I'd appreciate it if you kept your nose out of my business."

Draco smiled annoyingly, just like the Cheshire cat grinning with faint maliciousness at Alice's befuddlement because of its riddles. There was the same upward gleam in his eyes, and his smile seemed too satisfied to be friendly.

"I see," Draco said slowly. "Something did happen between you two then."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Julian demanded, taking a few steps closer to Draco. "You know my situation – though Merlin knows how you figured that out – so obviously you know that it is impossible for me to marry Ginny. Is that what you want to hear? That I had to break her heart because I cannot marry her; that I have to try and forget about the girl I love because it would be foolish to marry her while we both have nothing."

"No," Draco responded calmly. "If you really loved her, you would not be walking away." He paused, meeting Julian's sceptical look. "You would sacrifice everything you have just to be with her."

"Oh, don't be an idiot," Julian snapped heatedly. "You can't tell me that you of all people would give up all your money and status just to marry a girl!"

Draco's eyes gleamed with mocking amusement. "Maybe not, but then I'm not stupid enough to lose my inheritance to gambling."

Julian opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, his face taking on the interesting colour of a lobster. If his hands suddenly sprouted into claws, Draco thought he would make quite the sea creature. Julian, however, only continued to glare at him. It would have been and amusing scene if Draco were not feeling so worried for the girl in his arms. Her breathing sounded far too disjointed to be normal.

Draco quickly scooped an arm under Ginny's legs and picked her up, holding her securely against his chest. He levelled his gaze on the older man and, for a moment, looked suddenly older than his twenty years.

"Goodnight, Julian," Draco said evenly. "If I were you, I would consider leaving tonight. I don't think my mother would appreciate you upsetting her favourite guest."

Julian glared at him for a moment, but he too seemed to realise that it was time to go. There was nothing for him here anymore. He had lost Ginny, and he had lost his inheritance. Soon, all of society would know his failures, and he would become the laughing stock of society. He did not want that.

He stared at Ginny, and a sudden flash of longing crept into his blue eyes.

"Tell her I'm sorry, would you?" Julian said softly.

Draco considered the older man for a moment. He supposed he could apologise on Julian's behalf, but then Draco had never been a forgiving fellow, and he certainly held no goodwill towards Julian Adderson.

"No, I don't think I will," Draco replied with a smirk, and then he walked off down the hallway, carrying his fair burden.

Julian could feel as bitter as he liked for all Draco cared; he was not Julian's messenger boy. Besides, Draco had his own problems to deal with. Finding a woman to marry in a month was not something he could easily forget.

He stared down at Ginny's face, which was cradled in the nook of his shoulder, and his expression softened slightly. It was much easier to like Ginny Weasley when she was asleep. There was something sweet about the way her face relaxed into slumber – something that drew him to her with an inexplicable power.

Something stirred inside him that he could not place. It felt warm, almost gentle, yet at the same time so strange and surreal. He'd never felt anything like it before. The warmth seemed to blossom out from his heart, stretching its fingers to surround the beating organ until his chest seemed to hum with the feeling. It was subtle in its touch, as if it was afraid to reveal its true strength to him, but he could feel its power all the same – fragile as it was.

And then it was gone.

Draco tried to search his feelings to discover where the strange warmth had come from, but he could barely remember what it felt like now, let alone what had triggered it. He began to wonder if he had simply imagined it. How else could he explain its sudden disappearance?

"There's no point dwelling on it," Draco muttered, pushing the confusing thoughts aside.

He had more important things to worry about: like getting Ginny safely back to her room. His arms were already protesting against her weight. Maybe those ridiculous heroes in romance novels could carry girls around like they weighed nothing, but Draco found himself struggling after a while. Either he really needed to work out more, or else this idea of carrying girls around like they were feathers was all rather unrealistic.

Draco was more than relieved when they finally got to her room and wasted no time in placing her down on the bed. Her hair fanned out around her like a fiery halo, covering half her face. He reached out instinctively and pushed the strands of red away as his eyes travelled over her features, falling to her slightly parted lips where they remained locked in deep concentration. His hand lingered on her cheek while he gazed intently at her lips. He then realised what he was doing and quickly pulled back in shock.

Feeling slightly flustered, Draco straightened to his full height and stared at the redhead with accusing eyes, as if it were her fault that he had been contemplating the unthinkable. He certainly would never willingly think about kissing that freckled thing.

Ginny moved in her sleep, and a soft moan escaped her lips. Draco realised that she was probably going to wake. He did not want to be there when that happened, already feeling rather embarrassed from his previous behaviour. He paused only to pull the covers up over her body and then left the room without a backwards glance, though his mind remained in turmoil as he walked back to his room.

For one dangerous moment, he thought he had actually cared about Ginny Weasley – and that was a frightening thought.

**OOOO**

Draco spent the night tossing and turning in his bed, unable to get Ginny out of his head. His heart and mind seemed to be in a constant war: his heart telling him to trust his feelings and accept that perhaps she was not so bad, while his mind retaliated by reminding him of how stupid and annoying she could be. By the time morning arrived, however, Draco knew that he had made his decision on who would be his bride.

Of course, his mother had to be told, and that was how he came to be sitting across from Narcissa in her sitting room, telling her that he was going to marry Ginevra Weasley. She had expressed all the right amount of joy upon hearing the news, and if it had occurred to either of them that Ginny might not actually want to marry Draco, it certainly did not seem to bother them. Draco was too worried about what he would be expected to do next, and Narcissa was too busy celebrating the success of her matchmaking schemes.

Narcissa sipped her tea delicately while Draco tried to ignore his brain screaming that this was all a big mistake. He had been battling that voice all night and morning, and while it was disconcerting to be hearing voices at all, this one was particularly frustrating. If he had to marry anyone, he figured it had might as well be Ginny, who was at least interesting. That little voice, however, kept insisting that he would regret it before the end. Draco had to wonder if the voice was right. He did know that Ginny was quite a handful, and more than once he had suffered from her rudeness.

He heard the clinking of his mother's teacup hitting the saucer and lifted his eyes to see a knowing smile being cast his way. She was looking particularly smug today, and Draco knew it was because he had decided to marry Ginny. Normally he would have felt irritated and more than a little rebellious at seeing that expression, but now was not the time to be a spoilt brat. He had to be mature about this, even if his mother was grating on his nerves.

"So tell me, Draco, when do you plan to propose to her?" Narcissa asked.

Draco fidgeted with his hands and stared at the ground. "I, er . . . Well, I haven't decided yet."

In truth, Draco had hoped to put off the actual proposal for as long as possible. He had always been rather cowardly, and his own selfishness made it difficult for him to inconvenience himself by choice. Narcissa knew this, but she would not let her son ruin her plans. She had put too much into this wedding to let it fall apart now.

She extended her hand over the table and took his in hers, giving it a small squeeze. "Draco, you must do this for your father. You've made the right choice in choosing Ginevra, but you mustn't let her slip through your fingers. Right now she's weak from her illness and so far less likely to kick up a fuss. I think it would be wise to propose to her today before she gets better."

Draco frowned. He pulled his hand away from his mother's grasp and stared at her incredulously. There was something not right here. He did not know what it was, but he recognised that gleam in his mother's eyes, which told him that she was up to something. He had seen it many times before when she was dictating the lives of her family. His mother was very good at getting her way, and usually it was through questionable means.

"Mother, what did you do?" Draco asked suspiciously, eyeing her with increasing misgiving.

He knew his mother to be manipulative and sometimes unfeeling, but he hoped she had not done anything to Ginny.

Narcissa gave a careless shrug. "I simply slipped some flu-inducing potion into Ginevra's glass of wine so that she would get sick."

Draco clenched his hands into fists, but his expression remained calm. "And why would you do that?"

"Don't be a fool, Draco. Ginevra would do everything in her power to stop you from proposing to her, and I did not want that. Having her too weak to put up a fight was the easiest way to ensure that things would run smoothly. Don't worry," Narcissa added with what was supposed to be a reassuring smile, "she'll soon realise that this match is not so bad."

Draco did not feel the relief his mother had obviously intended to give him. He couldn't help but wonder if it was right to force Ginny into a marriage that she did not want, especially since she had just had her heart crushed by another man. However, he also knew that his mother was correct in suggesting that she would try to stop him from proposing to her if she could. There was also the fact that she was the only woman whom he could see himself marrying – not because he particularly liked her, but because he couldn't stand the other women of his acquaintance. It was selfish of him, but maybe his mother was right. Maybe she would see the advantages of being married to him. He certainly did not want to go with anyone else.

"Draco," Narcissa said seriously, "if you want to marry her, you must do this. All you need to do is say the words and the magic will do the rest."

He nodded his head, knowing this to be true. Once he proposed, Ginny would be bonded to him for life by the magic placed on her as a pureblood. The wizarding world did not believe in divorce, which was why Blaise Zabini's mother conveniently had her husbands indisposed when she got sick of them. Draco decided not to dwell on that too much, considering he was contemplating marriage with a woman who showed every sign of hating him.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, not quite sure what to do anymore. He knew most of his decision to marry Ginny was based on the fact that his mother wished it, and also because he found those other women to be unbearable. Being attracted to her helped too, but he still disliked the freckled witch. He was just so confused and felt so trapped, and then he had to wonder if his father would even approve of the marriage anyway. Lucius hated the Weasleys, and Draco had already been accused of being the near death of his father. He didn't need that theory to become literally actualised.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Mother?" he asked. "I understand that you like her, but won't Father be angry?"

Narcissa laughed softly. "You leave your father to me. He may not like her, but I can get him to tolerate the marriage at least. As for wanting this, it's not up to me, Draco. I naturally would prefer you to marry someone like her rather than one of those imbeciles, but I will not force you. I was under the impression that you did like her, though. Why else would you be here telling me that you are going to marry her?"

Draco shrugged. "I just . . . I don't know if it's worth it. I thought I hated her – I still do, I think. I just . . . I don't want to marry any of those other girls, and she's not so bad really, but . . ."

"But what?"

"She doesn't love me, Mother. She hates me."

Narcissa placed her hand on his. "She will learn to love you, Draco, just as I learnt to love your father."

**OOOO**

Ginny opened her eyes and then immediately scrunched them shut. The night's proceedings were washing over her again, reminding her of how hopeless her situation was. Julian had left her, and now she had nothing to show for time with him except a broken heart. It was strange how such a tiny organ could cause so much pain, yet her heart really did seem to be wrenching in two. It was no wonder that she felt so tired and shattered. She did not want to get out of bed; she did not want to do anything. All she wanted was to curl up and die and never have to think of men again.

Tears slid down her cheeks, dampening her already damp pillows. She was sure she must have cried so much over the past two days that there could not possibly be any tears left, but the tears still kept coming. Her throat burned, her jaw hurt, and her eyes stung with betrayal. How could he have done this to her? How could he have tossed her aside so carelessly all because she had no money? Why? Why did society have to be so shallow? Why did every man have to be so obsessed with money and power? Why couldn't he have just loved her and married her? Why? Why? Why?

"It's not fair," Ginny choked out, still huddled up in a warm ball. "It's just not fair."

If she had not been feeling so sick, maybe she could have made him stay. Maybe she could have argued with him more and made him realise that he wanted to marry her. He did say that he liked her, and it wasn't as if his, or even her, circumstances couldn't change.

But no. She could not have done that, and she was glad that she had not. Julian was horrible. He deserved nothing, and she should try to move on from him. _He_ was the one who had been stupid enough to lose all his inheritance. She was much better off without him. After all, the only reason he did not want to marry her was because she had nothing of value to offer him! Nothing but her heart, of course, and he had broken that.

Her chin wobbled dangerously, and she wiped her eyes furiously where more tears had leaked out. "Oh, who am I kidding?" Ginny declared loudly, if rather pathetically. "I love him and he's gone. I don't care if he's a jerk. I don't care if he doesn't deserve me. I just want him!"

It was to this pitiful exclamation that Draco walked into the room. Ginny shot up in the bed, clutching the blankets to her chest. Her face was red and splotchy, and her freckles seemed to be standing out even more than usual. Her hair was tangled from all the rolling around she had been doing during the night, and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. She did not look particularly attractive right now, and as she gave a hearty sniff while casting an owlish glance his way, Draco wondered how it was that he could have ever considered kissing her last night. He also wondered why he had not run away yet and forgot about proposing altogether. She looked rather formidable with her angry gorgon glare and her chin quivering in what seemed to be the warning sign of hysterics. He hoped this would not prove to be the case.

"What do you want?" she demanded, pulling her dressing gown around her body more tightly, obviously in an attempt to appear more dignified. This seemed to be a hard achievement, as currently all she had succeeded in doing was looking more woeful than ever.

Draco tried not to walk out the door right then and there. She obviously had no idea how difficult it was to propose to a girl that looked on the verge of tears and was glaring at him like he was a particularly disgusting villain. Draco had to remind himself that he was not a villain and that he had to do this. She could not frighten him out of proposing to her. Though he still had his misgivings, he had a feeling that if he did not do it now then he would never get to marry her at all. Merlin forbid that should happen, for then he would be stuck with Pansy or, even worse, Daphne!

He walked determinedly to the bed and knelt down beside her, reaching out a hand to take hers in his. Ginny let go of the blankets, and her eyes bugged open in shock as she stared at him with a mixture of alarm and disbelief.

"W-what are you doing?" she stammered, weakly trying to free her hand from his grasp.

Draco was relieved to find that she was still sick and therefore could not actually fight against his upcoming proposal. That made him feel a little like a villain, but he managed to persuade himself that this was all for his future happiness and that she would get over it eventually. He hoped.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley," he began in a clear voice, "by the bonding magic placed on me as a pureblood, I name you as my chosen br-"

"NO!" Ginny screamed and placed a hand over his mouth to stop any more words from escaping. She stared at him with wide, frightened eyes and kept her hand firmly over his mouth. "Don't say it. Oh please, Merlin, don't say it!"

Feeling naturally frustrated, Draco yanked her hand from his mouth and glared at her. "Damn it, Weasley, I want to marry you!"

For a moment they just stared at each other: he glaring, and she with her eyes nearly popping out of her head in surprise. Then, all of a sudden, a blinding flash of light surrounded them, and Draco felt his right hand burn. It was as if hot needles were being pressed into his palm. He heard Ginny let out an indignant squeak and knew that she must be feeling the same intense heat.

"What's going on?" he heard her cry out, though he could not see her.

Suddenly, the blinding light vanished from the room, leaving both of them breathing hard and their hands still burning dully. Draco blinked a few times and then raised his hand to his face where he saw a strange mark etched onto his palm. It looked like two circles joined in the middle, but they were not the same. The left was pitch-black while the right seemed to be more gold. He stared at Ginny, who was also looking at her hand, and he noticed that the same mark had been imprinted on her palm as well, except, for her, the circle on the right was black. She met his gaze with a stunned look that was bordering furious, and Draco suddenly realised what had happened. Somehow, the bonding magic had been performed on them, even though he had not completed the spell, and that meant that their lives were tied to each other now.

He stared at his hand again, knowing that the circles would remain until he and Ginny were married – a constant reminder of their bond.

"I don't believe this," Ginny muttered to herself. Her eyes locked on his – frustration, anger, and pure hopelessness shining through her brown irises. "Why, Malfoy? Why would you want to marry me?"

Draco did not know what to say. How could he explain to her that he only picked her because he did not want to pick any of the other women? How could he ever make her accept that this was the only course of action he could take?

"I . . ."

He trailed off and absently rubbed his hand where the mark was. He just couldn't bring himself to say anything. It was a cowardly thing to do, and he knew it, but Draco had never professed to be a Gryffindor. He was selfish and had proposed to her with his own happiness in mind. He thought it would only make things worse if he said that though.

"I suppose that's it then?" Ginny demanded after a few more moments of silence. "There's no way to call it off?"

He shook his head, feeling suddenly very guilty. So maybe this had been the wrong way to go about things. Maybe he could have handled the proposal better. He had never wanted to force a girl into marrying him, but, really, what could he have done? It was either force her to marry him or be forced into marrying someone himself. He had been trapped by both his parents' wishes, given no choice but to find a bride before the month was out. Ginny was the only one that had ever made him look twice; the only one that had ever sparked something more than frustration inside him. If it was selfish, well, he could not help that. He had to do what felt right for him.

"This is just great," Ginny muttered, flopping back against the bed in a dispirited heap. "I can't believe I'm engaged to Draco Malfoy."

Draco glared at her. "You don't have to say it like that. It's not like I'm a toad or anything. It could be worse, you know."

"You had might as well be a toad for all I care. I can't _believe_ you would do this to me!" She shot up again, and her eyes narrowed into angry slits as she looked at him. "You know, I thought you were an insufferable jerk before, but now I realise how much I've underestimated you. You're more than insufferable; you're horrible, and hateful, and—_ugh_! I don't even want to look at you!"

Draco watched as she flopped back down on the bed and pulled the covers over her head. He heard the pitiful sounds of sniffling and knew that she was probably crying again. He did feel bad then, but he could not do anything to make her feel better now. They were going to be married, and there was absolutely no way to break it off, short of killing themselves. Draco had no desire to go to an early grave, and he did not think that Ginny did either. They were stuck together in a marriage of convenience, though he doubted she would see it that way. She probably wished him dead right now, and for good reason . . .

He stared at the lump under the blankets that was her body and realised there was no point staying any longer. She clearly was not going to talk to him again.

"I better tell my mother," Draco muttered as he stood up.

Ginny only gave a loud sniff from under the blankets.

Draco sighed to himself and left the room. He did not know what would happen now, or if Ginny would ever forgive him. She was stubborn to a fault, but she would have to learn to live with him eventually. He hoped.

"What have I got myself into?" Draco mumbled.

For all that this had seemed such a good idea in the morning, and while he had been talking to his mother, now it just seemed foolish and more than a little wrong. He could not see how this engagement could possibly end happily, and with Ginny refusing to even talk to him, he knew that things were about to get very difficult for him indeed.

**OOOO**

Ginny lay under the blankets in silence, though she gave a small sniff from time to time. Draco had left the room only a few minutes ago, but she had no desire to move again. To say that she was upset was an understatement, and she desperately wished that she had a Time-Turner so that she could go back in time and stop him from saying those horrible words. She could not believe that he had actually asked her to marry him. Well, asking was not really what had happened: more like he had demanded that she marry him and the stupid magic had done the rest.

"Why did this have to happen?" she whispered, wrapping her arms around her shuddering body.

Everything was ruined now. When she was young, she had spent hours wondering who her husband would be. A natural romantic, she had very clear ideas about how he should look and behave, and the romance novels she loved so dearly had spurred her imagination even further to endow him with wonderful qualities. He would be perfect in every way, but now she knew who that man would be. She knew exactly how all those fantasies were going to end, and none of the conclusions were pleasant.

Just thinking of the way he had treated her at the dance, let alone how he had treated her like dirt during all those years in school, made her shudder. How could she be happy marrying a man like that? He had no respect for her or her family, and he had never once suggested that he would be kind to her. They could barely hold a civil conversation together for goodness' sake! She was going to be miserable, and now all her dreams of having a husband who loved her were gone. She would never know what it would be like to wake up next to a man who wanted to spend his life with her – who cherished her and would always look after her. Instead, she was stuck marrying Draco Malfoy: the egotistical man who had ruined her life and who did not give two figs about her. Even crying seemed pointless now. It would achieve nothing but puffy eyes and a sore throat, for there was no way out of this mess. The bonding mark on her hand told her that clearly enough.

Ginny sniffed again and wondered what she could do to make this depressing situation somehow better. She was not a natural pessimist, so she figured that there must be something she could do, but nothing presented itself. She wished she had her mother and father here; they would be able to tell her what to do, but they were all the way at the Burrow and had no idea what was happening to their youngest daughter.

Thinking of her parents made her feel like crying again. She wished she had listened to their warnings more seriously. Still, she doubted that any of them had thought that Draco Malfoy would propose to her. She had never seriously considered he would either, even when she had heard that Narcissa wanted him to. It was all just so strange and frustrating, and combining this with the heartache she was already feeling made everything seem so much worse. It was as though everything was spiralling out of control, and she could not see how her life could ever turn for the better. Her parents would be so disappointed with her. And what would her friends think? What would anyone think?

"I have no hope," she whispered in a choked voice, realising the true extent of the awful situation she was in.

She had to marry Draco. She _had_ to. There was no going back.

* * *

**A/N: Never fear, my lovely readers, emo!Ginny will be eradicated by the next chapter. I detest her just as much as I'm sure you do.**

**On a more important note, we've finally made it to the **_**real**_** story. Hurrah.**


	11. The Aftermath

**The Aftermath**

Ginny had not spoken with Draco for two days since the proposal. Instead, she seemed to have taken a delight in wearing dressing gowns and trailing blankets around while she trudged about her room, looking just like the martyr she believed herself to be. Serino was the only one she allowed inside, and that was just to give her food. She still had her Weasley appetite, after all. Even Narcissa was not allowed in her room, for Ginny refused to speak to any of the Malfoys. She was furious with all of them. Every time she looked at the mark on her hand, she would feel her anger bubble to the surface again, as well as the natural wave of helplessness that came with it. That mark was a symbol of her bond to Draco, and it was there because he wanted to marry her – because he had said those words.

All purebloods had the bonding magic sealed inside them from birth, for it was passed down through the bloodlines, so she understood that it would be very difficult to break the spell. She had exhausted all her genius in trying to find a way out of her situation, but if the pureblood girls of old could not escape the marriages, than how could she ever hope to? She was no Hermione Granger, and though she had hunted in the library when she had thought no one would be in there, no answers had come to her from the musty, old books. She had tried everything, and now she knew it was time to accept defeat and make the most of the situation.

Wrapping her blanket tightly about her, Ginny sat down on the chair by the ornate writing desk in her room, which was painted with intricate floral designs. It was a nice desk, and once she had looked upon it with envy, knowing that she herself would never be able to afford such an elegant piece. Right now, however, the mere sight of the desk infuriated her. It reminded her of the Malfoys and all of their pompous extravagance, but now was not the time to dwell on furniture. There were more important things to worry about, like how she was going to tell her parents that she was engaged to Draco Malfoy. She had put off writing to them for two days, and, in her heart, she knew that she could not delay any longer. It was time to face responsibility and tell those she loved what had happened. She could only hope that they would not judge her too harshly for getting into such a mess.

Ginny opened a drawer on the desk and pulled out some parchment, a pot of ink, and a feathered quill. She placed the parchment meticulously on the desk so that it was perfectly straight, neatly set down the pot of ink to the right of the parchment, and then, very carefully, she slipped the quill into the ink encased in the glass pot.

To anyone else, it may have seemed odd to see her spending so much time worrying about how things were laid out on the desk, for most people knew Ginny to be very unorganised and careless in her habits. However, when Ginny was nervous, she became freakishly methodical. The very calm and deliberate nature of her actions reflected the true tumultuous feelings raging inside her.

She was preparing to tell her parents that she was engaged to a man they neither liked nor wished her to marry, and that in itself was an upsetting thought. Add in that the engagement was against her will and it only increased her nervousness. She did not know how they would react and feared that they would barge in on the Malfoys' home and try to take her back. That would then trigger the nastier effects of the bonding magic, which would mean that she and Draco would both be inexplicably linked together by their marked hands so that neither could be separated until the wedding day. The creators of the bonding magic had made sure that the two would have no choice but to marry. The more she and Draco fought against it, the worse the effects would become until they either married or died. Ginny did not want that at all.

Ginny took a deep breath and picked up the quill from the inkpot, frowning for a moment as she stared at the blank parchment. She exhaled noiselessly and then started scrawling words on the parchment, her writing hasty and jagged from all the emotions bubbling inside her. The more she wrote, the more jagged her words became, and, as she turned over the page, her eyes started tingling with the unpleasant feeling of tears.

She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, as she did not want the letter to become illegible with tear splotches. She'd spent enough years trying to read tear-stained, indecipherable letters from her mother to know how impossible it was. Once she was satisfied that her eyes were not going to start leaking on her, Ginny continued writing and did so until she finished the letter with her name. She sealed the letter in an envelope with hot wax and wrote the name of her parents on the front. She then placed the quill once more in the inkpot and carefully laid the letter down on the table.

Ginny placed her head in her hands. That letter was her sentence to doom, explaining everything that had happened to her over the past week and of her engagement to Draco Malfoy. It was her final act in accepting the situation, and it was for this reason that she had procrastinated writing it for so long. She had not wanted to accept that she was going to marry Draco, but now – now she knew it was the only choice she had.

She was awakened out of her rather melancholic reverie as someone knocked briskly at the door.

"Ginevra!"

Ginny lifted her head in fright and stared at the closed door. It was Narcissa again. She knew that she would have to face Draco's mother eventually, and, truth be told, Ginny was getting rather sick of acting depressed. It was hard work trying to stay like a martyr by locking herself in her room and refusing to talk to anyone while wearing her pyjamas all day, and bundling up with blankets so that she could look just that little more pitiful. Perhaps other girls might be able to achieve such a tragic feat, but Ginny found herself getting more than a little bored from the monotony of it all. Even though she was upset and even though she wished to Merlin that it had never happened, she could not keep hiding away and crying in her room. It simply was not her. She was not a coward, and though she hated this engagement with all her miserable, broken heart, she would not become like those women who just reclined on sofas all day with smelling salts in hand, living like a tragic invalid just to escape the life they had to live. She would hate this marriage, she would hate Draco, but by Merlin was she going to show them that they had not defeated her yet.

It was not going to be easy. She had suffered a double blow with Julian breaking her heart and then Draco forcing her into an engagement, but she was stronger than this. She had suffered things in the past, and who was to say that she could not overcome this too? Being married to a man she did not love would not kill her. It would bother her profusely, but it would not kill her. Having her heart broken by a man who had seemed perfect in every way may have upset her to the extreme, but it did not mean that her heart would remain broken. Her tears had been shed for her disappointment on both parts, and now she knew she had to move on to a more productive pastime than this wallowing in self-pity. She was a resourceful woman, and she was sure she could find a way to still be happy and married to Draco. After all, who knew what would happen in the future? For all she knew, Draco might die the next day and she would never have to worry about him again.

Narcissa once more knocked at the door.

"Ginevra, you really must stop this nonsense. Open this door, or I shall simply use my wand to open it."

Ginny wiped the tears away from her face, threw off her blanket, and fixed up her nightdress to make herself look at least somewhat presentable. She peeped into the mirror and hurriedly fixed up her hair, which was looking rather tangled at the moment (it had not been brushed for two days), before striding over to the door and opening it. Narcissa stood regally in front of her with one eyebrow raised and her blue eyes glinting with impatience. Ginny felt her stomach give an uncomfortable wobble at the sight, for right now Narcissa looked every bit the snobby aristocrat that she was.

Ginny vaguely wondered if it really had been so wise to shut herself in her room for two days in a fit of the mopes, but it was too late to consider alternative options now. She had to make the most of the situation, and that included soothing the older woman's ruffled feathers.

"I see you have finally decided to talk to me," Narcissa commented dryly, moving past Ginny into the room.

Her eyes scanned the dimly lit room, noticing the nightdresses and blankets strewn everywhere that had arisen from Ginny's two days of martyrdom. It was obvious that Ginny's time had not been productive, and there were more than a few broken ornaments littering the floor near the walls, suggesting the fiery redhead had been practising her throwing skills. Serino would have cleaned the room, but Ginny was much more comfortable in her state of depression – and, indeed, looked more pitiful – in a messy room filled with the broken shards of her fury than the ridiculously clean room that the elf enjoyed.

Instead of commenting on the mess, Narcissa simply turned her attention to Ginny with a stern look in her eyes. Her patience had clearly thinned, and Ginny knew she was about to receive a reprimand for her sulky behaviour. Already, she could feel the sting of it burning into her skin and folded her arms defensively to give herself some encouragement. Though Ginny did want to assure Narcissa that she would cooperate now, she would not allow them to make her feel like she had been in the wrong. That was something she could not stomach, no matter what.

"I know you are not stupid, Ginevra," Narcissa said bluntly, "so I need not spare civilities with you. You understand that I cannot let you remain in this ridiculous fashion any longer. You are engaged to my son and, whether you like it or not, you will marry him. Do I make myself clear?"

Two days ago, Ginny would have argued her little heart out that she would never accept the idea of marrying Draco, that she would never comply with any of their wishes, and that she would never talk to any of them and would stay in this room for the rest of her life if she had to. It would have been a very dramatic declaration, and she knew that it would have brought her great satisfaction to see Narcissa's face lose its cold calmness. But Ginny was past her rebellious stage. Two days of talking to no one except to argue with the house-elf on whether it could clean her room had not been particularly thrilling, and being locked alone in her room in a depressed state had become rather depressing in itself. She had quite made up her mind that it was time to move on and take up her role as fiancée to Draco Malfoy, however horrible that role may be. Making a fuss would only make things worse for everyone, and even more frightening was the thought that it could trigger some strange effect in the bonding spell.

"I understand, Mrs Malfoy," Ginny responded placidly enough.

"Good. The engagement will be announced tomorrow in the _Daily Prophet_, so you had best tell your parents before then."

"I've just written them a letter." Ginny grabbed it off the desk and held it for Narcissa to see. "Would you be able to send it?"

"Of course," Narcissa replied with a small smile, and summoned the letter to her hand.

Ginny had to try not to smirk, but it was hard not to be amused at Narcissa's sudden change in demeanour. Her coldness had melted swiftly at the satisfaction of having Ginny finally decide to comply with her wishes, and now she seemed her usual placid self. She was regally calm in her delight, as was expected. There would be no garish smiles or suffocating exclamations as Ginny might have suffered from Celia. Everything about Narcissa Malfoy was dignified and composed.

"You should start preparing for the dinner party tonight," Narcissa continued in a smooth voice. "We will be unofficially announcing the engagement to the last of the guests, and I expect you and Draco to at least try to appear happy about this. You may hate my son, but the world, Ginevra, should never know that."

Ginny knew what her answer was meant to be, and though it went against every fibre of her being to allow herself to pretend she was happy with this engagement, to fight it would only be asking for ridicule on her part from those haughty harpies. It was for this reason that she simply gave a dutiful nod. "I understand."

Narcissa allowed another small smile to pass her lips, and her eyes softened just a fraction. "I am pleased to hear it. In time, you will see that marriage to my son is not so bad. There are benefits in being a Malfoy, and Draco will treat you well. He will not hurt you."

Ginny said nothing. She doubted she would ever truly be happy in this marriage, and right now she could not think of any benefits in being married to Draco apart from the fact that he was rich. However, she did know that Narcissa was right in saying that Draco would not hurt her. He was thoughtless, often selfish, but he had shown himself to be no more than a spoilt brat who had been pampered by society for far too long and had become too arrogant for his own good. There was nothing sinister about him, and, in truth, he had behaved as any gentleman might have. Well, most of the time anyway.

Ginny was not prejudiced, though. She knew that Draco had his good points, and he had shown them on those rare occasions when he had helped her. She had not forgot his modesty at the lake when he had tried not to stare at her body out of respect, nor had she forgot the lie he had given on her behalf that same day. It was true that those moments were far outweighed by the numerous times he had irritated her, but she vaguely recalled that he had saved her just the other night from Julian. Though she had been feeling rather delirious at the time, she was sure she had seen his face right before she had fainted. That gave her some comfort in knowing that Draco would at least take care of her, even if he did not love her.

"Well," Narcissa said in a business-like voice, disrupting Ginny's musings, "I shall leave you now." She appraised Ginny for a moment and her lip curled in distaste. "Do have a bath, Ginevra. You look like you've just been picked up off the streets."

Ginny had the grace to blush and looked down as Narcissa left the room. Once the door was shut behind the older woman, she let out a deep breath and stood in the centre of the room with a pensive expression on her face. Tonight would be the first announcement of her engagement, which meant that no one else knew that she was engaged to Draco. Obviously, Narcissa had not wanted to tell anyone until she was sure of Ginny's cooperation, which, when Ginny thought about it, was quite understandable. She understood the embarrassment it would cause the Malfoys should it be known that their only heir's fiancée had no desire to be part of the prestigious family. It was almost tempting to purposely fight against the marriage just to see their reactions, but Ginny quelled such mischievous thoughts and instead put her mind to more important matters: like making herself presentable for the dinner.

She called for Serino and asked for a bath to be drawn, then stripped off her nightdress and slipped into the steaming water. It was then that she realised how much she needed and desired a bath. The water felt glorious against her skin and, closing her eyes in quiet ecstasy, Ginny just lay there in perfect contentment. For now, she would let all her worries about the future wash away so that she could just relax. A bath, after all, was to be enjoyed.

Once she felt her fingers beginning to wrinkle like prunes, Ginny finished washing and got out of the bath. Serino handed her a fluffy towel to dry herself with, and, once she was dry, she slipped on a clean dressing gown. She felt much better after her wash and even felt just a little more hopeful that things would not be so bad after all.

Ginny walked to the wardrobe and stared at the hanging dresses, her fingertips idly gliding along the soft materials. She had worn so many beautiful frocks while she had been in London, and though she had once expressed glee over each and every one, now it just seemed natural to wear a dress that looked like it belonged on a princess. She had become accustomed to extravagance without even realising it.

"Hrm, I think I'll go for the velvet, dark green one tonight," Ginny mumbled, pulling the elegant dress down from the cupboard.

It was a beautiful floor-length gown that fitted her figure well. Unlike the other gowns, which were usually high waists, this one advantageously set off her hips with its body fitting, intricately designed bodice. The neckline was not square – curving modestly enough down to her breasts – but she did have some qualms with how much creamy skin she seemed to be revealing once she put it on and stared into the mirror. Surely it had not been this low when she had first tried it on?

It was not that Ginny was particularly curvaceous and therefore had to worry about being indecent with how much skin she was showing, but she was modest and felt uncomfortable revealing so much cleavage. The dress seemed to give off the impression that her breasts were a lot more ample than they actually were, and the last thing Ginny wanted was to be viewed as a delectable treat for every leery-eyed gentleman. It was something she was not accustomed to, and she did not want to start the habit now.

She fidgeted with the bodice and half-heartedly tried to cover more of her breasts, but the material remained stubbornly low. Ginny decided that she could not do much about it now (for she refused to wear another dress) and smoothed down the long sleeves as she stared at her untouched face in the mirror. In truth, she preferred to wear very little or no make-up at all, but she knew that tonight was a special night and she had to look her best.

With a sigh, she picked up a garnet necklace and placed it around her neck; garnet drop earrings were slipped in her ears, and her lips were painted red with lipstick. Serino curled her hair so that the long, red locks were piled up into curls on top of her head, with a single lock of her hair being allowed to fall down to rest over her shoulder.

"You look beautiful, Miss," Serino observed with a toothy smile.

"Thank you, Serino," Ginny said, finishing the last of her make-up.

She did indeed look stunning in the green dress, though she would never be as beautiful as half of those other women. It was a depressing thought, and even though Ginny was a confident woman, even the most confident of people had their moments of insecurity. She knew she was no match for women like Alexia and Daphne, who were almost too beautiful. Ginny's skin was too tan, her hair was too red, and her body was too normal. She was, as Draco had once said, just pretty, but tonight she wanted to be more than that.

In a way, Ginny was not really sure why she wanted to look so attractive tonight. She claimed it was simply because this was the announcement of her engagement, but, deep down, Ginny knew there was more to it than that. Perhaps it was to show Julian that she had moved on, or maybe she just needed some confidence to face all those people and pretend that she was happy in this engagement. Whatever the reason, Ginny had taken extra care with her apparel that night.

"Will that be all you're needing, Miss?"

Ginny nodded. "Yes. I'll be alright now."

Serino gave a quick bow and then vanished with a pop. Ginny stared back at the mirror and fidgeted with her garnet necklace. She was beginning to feel nervous now, her stomach twisting so unpleasantly that she felt quite ill. This would be her first time facing everyone after what had happened, and she hated to think of what they would say once they found out that she was going to marry Draco. Ginny could only pray that she would have enough strength and courage to withstand the rest of the guests' snide remarks, for snide remarks there would be. Those women had all been hoping to sink their mercenary claws into Draco, but it was Ginny who had won his hand; it was she who had somehow gained favour with Narcissa and had been chosen to be the bride of the formidable woman's only son.

Ginny could not understand it. She had never cared about Draco, nor had she tried to flirt with him like the others did, yet, somehow, she had been the one chosen. She had no connections, no fortune – nothing at all. Why then had Draco chosen her above all the others? Surely he would have been happier with someone more suited to his station. Surely he had not been forced to obey Narcissa's wishes and had some choice of his own. Why then would he go for a girl who was tilting dangerously on being plain and felt no affection for him at all? It just did not make sense.

Just then, someone knocked at the door and, thinking it was Narcissa again, Ginny called for her to come in. The redhead was just fixing up a loose strand of hair when the door opened and Draco walked in. Her eyes automatically shifted from her reflection to Draco's tall form in the mirror, and her lips formed into a silent 'oh'. She had not been expecting to see him so early and felt oddly uncomfortable facing him right now. It was easy to curse him behind his back, easy to conform to the idea that she might be marrying him, but facing him was an entirely different matter. All her brain kept repeating to her was that she was going to have to marry this man, and that included being physically close to him.

Her cheeks burned at the thought, and Ginny felt even more flustered to see Draco's eyebrow rise slightly. Clearly, he had noticed her blush, though she could not tell what he was thinking due to the unreadable expression on his face. That one haughty eyebrow was the only sign that he had noticed anything, and, to Ginny, it just seemed like he was mocking her. In fact, it reminded her horribly of Narcissa, and she vaguely wondered if Draco would turn out to be just like his mother when he was older – an alarming thought.

"What do you want?" she asked, standing away from the mirror to face him, still with her cheeks slightly pink.

He was wearing full evening attire and, admittedly, did look quite handsome, but she was more concerned about what he was doing in her room than to reflect on how good he looked in his clothes. The last time he had been in this room he had proposed to her. It was somewhat worrisome to think what he would do this time. However, Draco did not make any move to come near her; instead, he leaned back against the wall and folded his arms, watching her impassively and seeming to be utterly relaxed.

It bothered Ginny that he could be so calm while she was so nervous. Did he not care at all that they were going to be married? Then again, he was the one who had asked her, so no doubt he was just satisfied that she had finally decided to stop putting up a fight. That thought did nothing to soften Ginny's irritation towards him; if anything, it only made her dislike him more.

Completely oblivious to Ginny's rather grumpy musings, Draco picked off a bit of fluff from his coat and said to her in a voice that lacked any enthusiasm, "Mother wants me to escort you down to dinner. She says it will look better if we come in together."

"Alright," she agreed grudgingly, trying to keep her glare in check. He just had a way of irritating her.

"Are you ready then?" he asked, finally lifting his eyes from his now immaculate coat to stare at her with a rather disinterested expression.

He seemed completely at his leisure, which bothered her more than she could say. Here she was getting all worked up and nervous, and he just seemed to be having a swell, old time relaxing against the wall, watching her with his usual bored arrogance. He had not even noticed how hard she had tried to look good tonight, being more content to worry about whether he had fluff on his coat than how beautiful she looked. She had to admit that it really was no surprise, though; Draco always had been self-centred.

_Some fiancé he is_, Ginny thought bitterly to herself.

She turned away from Draco to spray some perfume on her neck. Satisfied that she had completed her toilette, Ginny turned back to her companion and nodded her head. "I'm ready, and I just hope the house-elves have made a decent meal. If everyone enjoys the food, than they will be less likely to talk to me."

Draco's eyes softened slightly with understanding, but he said nothing and offered his arm to her. She looped her arm in his and walked with him out of the room, feeling rather awkward from their close proximity. Normally she had so much to say to him, even if it was only insults, but now she just felt tongue-tied. What did one say to one's fiancé, let alone a reluctant one? It was just awkward and uncomfortable, and Ginny wondered if Draco felt the same.

She turned her eyes curiously to his face, following the hard lines of his chin up to his eyes, which were so piercing and grey that she almost thought he could rip her to shreds with one glare. His hair looked silky to touch up close and fell perfectly around his pale face: a face with features far too hard to be considered typically handsome. He was all angles, and the very perfection of his finely chiselled features seemed almost too perfect to the point where the attractiveness was lost. His frequent scowls and glares only increased this harshness, and the smug smiles and smirks that he enjoyed wearing did nothing to lighten this perspective either. He was striking – there was no doubt about that – but she could not admire his piercing looks like she had Julian's.

"Is there something on my face, Weasley?"

Ginny blinked and realised that those piercing grey eyes were now locked on hers. She felt only slightly embarrassed that she had been caught gawking at him, but she was far too graceless to apologise for it. Instead, she simply gave a careless shrug and decided to put him right out of his element by telling the truth.

"Not at all. I was merely deciding whether I find you handsome or not."

She was amused to see his jaw drop, but before he could make an answer to her bold reply, Ginny's mind had suddenly seized on a sudden problem with their choice of names for each other. Her brow wrinkled into a frown and she stopped walking, jerking him to a halt as well by the sudden tug on his arm.

"Malfoy, you do realise that once we get married you're going to have start calling me by something other than 'Weasley'. I suppose I'll have to stop calling you 'Malfoy', too."

"I guess," Draco agreed noncommittally. By his expression, which was rather stunned, he was still trying to get over her earlier comment.

Ginny sighed, as if it was a terribly annoying hassle just to call him by his given name. "I suppose I should get used to calling you 'Draco', then."

"I suppose so," he said simply, and once more began steering her towards the dining hall. "I'll try to remember to call you Ginevra from now on."

Ginny shuddered. "Please, just call me Ginny. Whenever people call me Ginevra, I feel like I'm in trouble. I would tell your mother not to, but I think she might have a heart attack if I even suggested she call me by a nickname."

Draco chuckled. "Most likely. My mother is a stickler for propriety."

"And you're not?" Ginny quipped with one eyebrow arched.

She had always thought he was a little stiff, but maybe she was wrong. She barely knew him, after all. Most of her conversations with him had ended in insults, which did not exactly promote 'friendly question time'.

He lowered his gaze to meet hers, and a small smirk flittered across his face. "I think I have offended more people than I can count because I cannot be bothered behaving as I ought."

"What?" Ginny cried in mock astonishment. "And here I was thinking you were just too conceited to notice that you were offending anyone."

His eyes lit up with amusement, but he did not succumb to her bait. "Maybe the better explanation would be that I am too conceited to _care_ if I offend anyone."

"O-ho," Ginny exclaimed in an uncanny imitation of her brother, Ron. "So you admit that you are conceited!"

Now she had him. He had as good as admitted it himself.

"I suppose you'd just love me to agree to that, but the truth is that I just don't care. I don't think that makes me conceited." His eyes found hers again, and she could see the expression in them shift as he became more serious. "I meant what I said that day when we danced at your coming-out ball. I don't like pretension, and I'm not going to pretend to like someone when I don't."

Ginny's smile faded slightly at the remembrance of that night. That was when she had first decided that she truly hated Draco Malfoy, though she was not really sure how she felt about him now. He seemed to be constantly changing in his behaviour towards her so that she did not know what to think. Sometimes he was rude, sometimes he was thoughtful, and then there were times like now, when he was just being himself, and they could actually have a civil conversation. Well, civil for them. She felt somewhat worried at the sudden change, for Merlin forbid that Draco might actually start to grow on her like Armand had once suggested he would. However, Ginny did realise that it would take far too much effort to always hate him when they were going to be living together in such close proximity, and she also knew that she needed to try and make this relationship work to find her own happiness. Nothing good came without a little sacrifice, and she was sure she could sacrifice her natural urge to hate Draco in order to find a compromise between them.

She turned her eyes back to his face and gave him a small smile that was faintly mocking. "Everyone has to pretend at some point. Even you have acted politely to those you don't like, and you can't say otherwise, because I know there were times when you wanted to hex me but refrained out of politeness."

He laughed lightly. "You're right, but there's a difference between being polite and being fake. Being polite just means you're tolerating that person because it would be immature not to. Being fake is for people who care what others think of them."

"And you don't care what other people think of you?"

She found that quite hard to believe. Draco had always liked to play up to the crowd during their school years, and she had been of the belief that bullies only bullied others because they wanted to be perceived in a certain way. Bullying aside, she could not say for sure whether he truly cared about what others thought or not. He dressed nicely, but she thought that might just be the way he was brought up, and it was clear that he spared no civilities for people who irritated him. He really was quite the enigma when she thought about it.

"Everyone cares what people think in some way," he replied dismissively, once more disrupting her thoughts, "but I couldn't care less if people knew that I disliked them."

Ginny couldn't help but laugh at his honest admission. "You're horrible, you know that?"

He shrugged, though Ginny could see a smile threatening to lift his lips.

"Maybe, but then I'd rather be seen as horrible than have to pretend to enjoy the company of people like Charlotte Cunningham. She really is a dead bore."

Ginny really did laugh at that.

"Perhaps you are right that it is better to not pretend," she remarked, her eyes brimming with amusement, "but I think there would be a lot of offended people if we all allowed our dislike of others to be made known." He opened his mouth to protest, but she ploughed on. "Yes, Malfoy, even if they are as boring as Charlotte."

Draco gave her a reluctant smile, which made Ginny smile in turn, and both of them continued walking down the hallway in a much more companionable fashion than when they had first started the trek to the dining hall. Ginny knew that they had a long way to go before they could really be friendly with one another, but she thought this was a good step in at least learning to respect each other. After all, he hadn't offended her once, and she had tried her best not to insult him.

It suddenly occurred to her that this was their first _real_ conversation, not to mention their first civil one. She laughed and turned her face back up to his.

"Do you know, Malfoy, I believe we just had our first civil conversation."

His mouth twisted slightly. "You seem so surprised."

She blinked and stared more intently at him, wondering what he was thinking. He always seemed to close off when she would do this, though, as if he knew she was trying to worm her way into his thoughts. It was like the shutters on his face would slam down, and then the most she could hope to find was a scowl or a smirk. Right now, he wore neither of these charming expressions; instead, he stared at her blankly, as if waiting for her answer.

"Well, I don't know," she confessed with a shrug. "I just noticed that you and I find it very difficult to be civil to each other. Surely you must have realised by now that we always end up arguing when we meet."

"That's because you always say or do something stupid."

Her mouth dropped open in indignation. "I do not! _You're_ the one who's always offending me! I don't do anything at all!"

"Oh, come off it," Draco retorted with a bit more bite than Ginny thought necessary. "At least I dislike people for a good reason. You're rude to people because they have money and happen to be admired in society. You think you're better than all of us because you're so _genuine_ and _nice_, but you're no different at all. You're just a big hypocrite."

"_I'm_ the hypocrite?" She unlinked her arm from his and glared up at him. "You don't know anything about me!" Her finger seemed to lift of its own accord and pointed threateningly at his face. "And, for your information, I don't dislike people just because they have money or are admired by society! I have very good reasons for being rude to the people that I am rude to!"

"Oh, really?" he asked sceptically.

"Yes!"

They both glared at each other for a moment, and then Draco suddenly started to laugh. Ginny stared at him in amazement, her cheeks angrily flushed and her hands resting on her hips – though how her hands got there, she had no idea.

"What could possibly be so funny?" she demanded in a chilly voice, finding her temper rising with each ringing laugh that escaped her dear fiancé's mouth.

"Well, if you hadn't realised, Weasley," Draco replied, his voice quivering with laughter, "our first civil conversation just got blown out the window."

Ginny's lips twitched dangerously, though she still tried to glare at him, but she could not resist any longer and soon she too was laughing. The whole situation was absolutely absurd.

"Merlin, Malfoy," Ginny exclaimed after they had both calmed down. "How are we ever going to survive this marriage?"

"I'm beginning to wonder that myself," he admitted with a rueful smile.

"Well, it'll be on your head if we end up killing each other," she said quite fiercely, suddenly remembering just why they were in this situation in the first place. "You're the one that wanted to marry me, after all."

"Yes, I know," he said bluntly.

Ginny didn't know what to say to that, so she simply turned away from him and was stunned to find that they were outside the dining hall. Had they really walked all that way so quickly?

Shaking away such trivial thoughts, she turned back to Draco and gave him an exasperated sigh. "Look, let's just get this dinner over with so that we can both be comfortable again. I'm sure I have enough fake smiles to last tonight so that your mother will leave me alone."

"Alright."

Ginny turned on her heel and entered the room to the dining hall, leaving Draco standing alone in the hallway. A small sigh escaped his lips and he trudged in after her, vaguely wondering to himself just what brain tumour had muddled his thinking to make him actually want to marry this shrew. Two days spent away from her had given him much time to think, and, in that time, he had begun to very much regret his choice in having her as his fiancée. He could have had it so easy if he had just asked someone who actually wanted to be engaged to him, but instead he had to go for the girl who didn't care a scrap for him or his money. Damn it all.

Draco took a seat next to Ginny and ignored the approving smile his mother gave him. He shot a glance at his fiancée, noting her less than pleased expression, and then glared down at his own plate.

Why? Why had he done it? Why hadn't he just thought about the situation and consequences a bit longer and reigned in his damn impulsive behaviour? He certainly wouldn't be here right now, feeling sick from nerves, nor would he be worrying over the fact that his soon-to-be-bride seemed more likely to slap him than kiss him like a normal fiancée should. Not that he really wanted her to kiss him. He had come to the conclusion that his moment of wanting to kiss her had been nothing more than a weird hormonal spasm. It was not possible that he could like her, and even though a little voice kept annoyingly reminding him that he had felt more than just the desire to kiss her, Draco ignored it with the belief that those feelings too had been nothing more than hunger pangs. Of course, one did not feel hunger pangs in one's heart, but Draco was more than a little alarmed by his developing feelings for Ginny Weasley. He felt more comfortable explaining them away, no matter how ridiculous the explanation was, rather than having to face them and accept that he might actually give a damn about the freckled wench next to him. Happily for Draco, he was very good at deluding himself.

Food magically appeared on his plate, and Draco half-heartedly stabbed at his meat with his fork. He could hear the chatter of the other guests around him, but right now he was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he barely registered what the conversation was about. His mind was stuck on Ginny and their upcoming marriage. It was clear that she still held a grudge against him, and, really, he didn't blame her. Still, he had been expecting her to put up more of a fight than this. She seemed to be acting suspiciously agreeable tonight – or at least trying to. He hadn't even expected her to leave her room to come to the dinner, for she had seemed quite dedicated to locking herself away, yet here she was. Really, Draco felt like tonight had been quite a success, considering their situation. Their conversation had not gone too badly – it definitely could have been worse – and she hadn't resorted to hexing him.

In truth, he had been terribly worried about facing Ginny tonight. He hadn't wanted to see her at all, but his mother had quite literally forced him up the stairs to Ginny's room and then glared at him until he knocked at the door. In that moment, he had silently prayed that Ginny would refuse him entry so that he could put off the engagement dinner, but then she just had to go and call him in like the disagreeable wench she was. His mother had narrowed her eyes at him, giving Draco no choice but to enter the room. He had been expecting curses and hexes to come flying at him, but Ginny had just stared at him wordlessly for a moment and then started blushing. He hadn't known what to think about that, so he had simply raised his eyebrow questioningly. After that, she seemed to regain her backbone, and Draco had felt his own wither away.

Unlike other people, Draco resorted to becoming insolently calm when he was nervous. It was for this reason that he had lounged back against the wall and pretended to not care. He didn't even think about what he was doing when this happened; it just became natural instinct to appear bored and lazily arrogant. It was his very own self-defence mechanism, and it seemed to serve him quite well. At least, it did with Ginny.

Narcissa stood up and tapped her spoon against her glass of champagne, causing both Ginny and Draco to suddenly glance at each other with identical horrified expressions. They both knew what that signal meant. The table of guests fell silent, and Draco stared at his mother with his stomach twisting unpleasantly. He felt Ginny shuffle next to him and knew she must be feeling the same, and then his mother started to speak.

"My friends, it is my great honour to stand in for my husband tonight and be the one to give this happy announcement." She smiled at Draco and Ginny, who both smiled somewhat edgily back, and then once more turned her gaze on the other guests. "I am pleased to announce that my son and Miss Ginevra Weasley are engaged to be married."

Draco's eyes slid shut in a wince, half expecting the table to erupt into outraged shouts, but instead a deadly hush fell over the room. He opened one eye and saw Ginny sitting bolt upright in her seat with her face pale and every freckle standing out on her cheeks. Then, very slowly, he allowed both his eyes to open and take in the situation. Every single woman in the room was glaring daggers at Ginny and even some of the men were glowering at her, which Draco found a little odd. Alexia suddenly let out a wail of fury and stood up from her chair, which fell over with a loud clatter. Draco heard her mutter furiously to herself in French, only catching the word '_whore_,' and then she stormed out of the room like an angry swarm of bees. Her actions seemed to bring everyone else to life, and soon the room was filled with the loud buzzing of voices. Very few seemed thrilled by the engagement, though Armand seemed to be trying hard not to laugh.

It was then that the doors to the dining room were thrown open and two very angry redheads stormed in.

"WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?" a rather dumpy looking woman demanded in a voice that could have rivalled a banshee. The other redhead, whom Draco recognised as Arthur Weasley, was staring at the woman with a scrunched up expression. No doubt he had received the full blast of her voice.

Draco gulped as the woman narrowed her brown eyes on him.

"You! You're the one that stole my daughter from me!" Mrs Weasley accused, pointing her finger damningly at his face.

Draco looked around the room for help and was relieved to see his mother walk over to Ginny's irate parent and place a calming hand on her shoulder.

"Perhaps we should talk?" Narcissa suggested coolly, and, much to the amazement of all, managed to steer Molly and Arthur Weasley out of the room without a single angry word being spoken from either of them.

The other guests all stared in wonderment at the closed door. Draco found himself suddenly wishing that he were anywhere but here. He chanced a glance at Ginny and noticed that she had much the same expression on her face.

"Come on," he muttered to her. "Let's get out of here before they start asking us questions."

Ginny nodded her head and both of them stood up and made their hasty retreat from the dining hall. They found a quiet parlour and sat down together on the chairs, both not really wanting to say anything. For Draco, he didn't think he could. It had been very nerve-racking to see Ginny's parents barge in like that. For one wild moment, he had thought Mrs Weasley was going to murder him.

"Do you think your mum will manage to calm my parents down?" Ginny asked after a few more minutes of silence.

Draco shrugged. "I don't know, but I certainly hope so. I don't particularly feel like facing your mother's wrath."

She gave a hollow laugh. "You should have thought of that before you decided to propose."

"Trust me, Weasley, I've been regretting getting engaged to you since the day it happened."

Ginny said nothing, and Draco only scowled darkly to himself, wondering just what would happen now. He could only hope that his mother would succeed in making the Weasleys see her way.


	12. A Civil Agreement

**A Civil Agreement**

Ginny sighed for what must have been the hundredth time. Her eyes flicked about the dimly lit room and fell on her companion, who was currently leaning forward with his elbows propped on his knees and running his hands through his hair in an agitated manner. She could see the creases forming on his brow and wondered what was running through his head. He had not spoken to her since his grand declaration that he regretted the engagement, and while that was neither comforting nor upsetting, it did make her wonder what exactly he was thinking. After all, if he was so quick to regret proposing to her as soon as problems started arising, why did he choose her in the first place? Surely he did not think that she would graciously accept him as her fiancé, let alone that her parents would take to the engagement without complaint.

"Mal—" She broke off, changing her mind, and then tried again. "Draco."

He looked up quickly, grey eyes flashing with surprise. Ginny also felt the awkwardness of calling him by his given name, but she had something of a delicate nature to say to him. It seemed fitting to make this conversation more personal rather than using the distant nature of his surname. Besides, they had agreed to use each other's proper names.

"Well, what is it?" Draco asked, allowing his hands to drop to his lap as he sat up straighter in his seat.

Ginny shifted uncomfortably. Somehow, this had seemed so much easier to ask in her mind when he was not looking at her. His eyes, which had always struck her for how very grey they appeared, were hard to face when one wished to ask a potentially embarrassing question. They were just too piercing, as if his eyes could search beyond the walls of her flesh right into her heart.

"You, um— well, you never did tell me why you wanted to marry me," Ginny began in a small voice that seemed a far cry from the businesslike tone she had been hoping to achieve, "and, um—" She tugged on the skirt of her dress, purposely avoiding his gaze. "I was just wondering, since you said that you didn't want to marry me and all, why did you ask me?"

For a moment he said nothing, causing Ginny to squirm even more with discomfort. Her eyes darted back to his, hoping to catch some insight into his feelings, but there were so many emotions racing through his grey irises that she could not pinpoint anything of what he was thinking.

He lowered his gaze to his lap, shielding his emotions from view. "I would have thought it was obvious," he said slowly, as if carefully choosing his words. "My mother wished me to marry you."

Ginny wasn't sure why she felt disappointed, but so it was that her stomach seemed to sink at his words.

"I see," was all she could manage to say, glancing the other way to hide her confusion.

"It doesn't matter now, anyway," Draco muttered. "We're stuck in this engagement whether we like it or not, and I just hope your parents aren't stupid enough to try and stop it. I have no desire to be connected to you until our wedding."

Ginny murmured something unintelligible in agreement. She was doing some quick thinking and was too absorbed in her own thoughts to really pay much attention to Draco's sour mutterings. She knew that he was right in saying that they had no choice but to go through with the wedding now, and agreed wholeheartedly in not wanting to be attached to him because of her parents' interference. The only thing for it was to prove to her mother and father that she was happy with the engagement. The thought was sickening, but she was not one to shrink from an unpleasant task if it was worth it.

"Perhaps if we pretended to care about each other," Ginny mused aloud. "My parents would never force me to do anything against my will, and if you and I pretend that we love each other, than they would have no choice but to accept the engagement."

His eyes, which had been smouldering darkly at the wall, now flicked back to hers. "You want me to pretend to be in love with you?" he asked a little sceptically, the frown deepening on his face.

"What's worse, Mal—Draco? Being attached to me for Merlin knows how long, or pretending to be in love with me for a few minutes to satisfy my mother and father?"

He looked like he was going to argue the point, but just at that moment the doors to the parlour opened and the three people Ginny had been dreading to see walked in. She never thought she would see the day that she wished her parents miles away from her, but so it was that Ginny felt a stab of annoyance to see them come into the room. It was clear that Narcissa had failed in her task, for her mother's owlish expression could not possibly be considered pleased. If anything, she looked more worked up than ever.

Narcissa's eyes flickered towards Draco, but Ginny could not see what look passed between them, for she suddenly found herself being pulled rather roughly to her feet. She glanced at the older redhead in surprise, shocked at being manhandled so brusquely by her own mother.

"I thank you for taking care of my daughter, Narcissa," Mrs Weasley said in a cold voice that was anything but grateful, "but I cannot let Ginny be forced into a marriage she does not wish to be a part of. You and your son may find another bride, but you will not have my daughter."

"You know just as much as I do that you cannot stop the marriage now," Narcissa replied smoothly. "It would be better if you just accept it with good grace."

"Over my dead body!" Mrs Weasley screeched, bosoms heaving. "I will never allow my daughter to be joined with your son!"

Narcissa's lip curled and her eyes froze to two chips of ice. "And what have you got against my son?"

Her voice was calm, but there was a frosty bite to her tone that made Ginny shiver. It was clear that Narcissa Malfoy had finally reached her limit. Ginny could only hope that her mother would not say anything to make it worse.

"He's forced my Ginny into a marriage she doesn't want, that's what! My girl would never go with him!"

Narcissa instantly took umbrage at this and soon both women were arguing, though, admittedly, it was more Ginny's mother who was doing the yelling. Mrs Malfoy had a tendency to be insolently calm in her fury (much like her son, uncannily enough), which, of course, only riled Mrs Weasley up even more.

Ginny shifted her gaze to her father, silently pleading for him to help her. Surely he could stop her mother from doing something foolish. If she and Draco were stuck together until their marriage, Ginny didn't know how she would ever forgive her mother.

Mr Weasley, catching the imploring looks his daughter was giving him, tried to place a calming hand on his wife's shoulder. "Molly, perhaps we should—"

"Quiet, Arthur!"

Ginny inwardly sighed. Her mother was working herself into a rampage, which meant that soon no one would be able to stop her. Already her face was going red and splotchy, and if Ginny were a more imaginative girl, she had no doubt that steam would soon be coming out her mother's ears. She had to do something to stop this now.

"Mum, _please_," Ginny begged, turning her face up to her mother's and wrenching her wrist free from the older woman's slackened grasp. "Just let us explain!"

"Explain what? I think we've heard enough explaining. It's clear that all the Malfoys are mad!"

"That's rich coming from you," Narcissa retorted, giving a snooty look at the redhead. "We're not the ones tinkering with Muggle objects and getting plastered all over the newspapers."

"I'd rather be disgraced for having bewitched Muggle objects in my house than to be embarrassed for owning dark artefacts!"

"How dare you!" Narcissa cried.

Ginny knew in that moment that her mother had gone too far. Everyone knew the Malfoys were not innocent of the crimes that they had been charged with, and Ginny doubted that she or her parents would ever understand the pain that the Malfoys had suffered in trying to piece their lives together after the shame they had faced. They had switched sides at the last minute, and though they had helped rebuild the Wizarding world after the war, there were those who were still prejudiced against them because they had once been with Voldemort. Judging by the haunted expression in Narcissa's eyes, the wounds were still raw.

"Molly, please. I don't think it is necessary to argue like this," Mr Weasley tried again in a placating voice, but this time both women turned furious gazes on him, silencing any other feeble admonitions he might have made.

"I will not be silenced!" Mrs Weasley shouted, tears forming at her overly bright eyes. "Our daughter has been stolen from us, and it is their fault! A toadstool can't change its spots, and it's clear enough that the Malfoys haven't changed theirs!"

"_Enough_!"

Mrs Weasley finally fell silent, but it was not Narcissa who had yelled. There, standing rigidly on the other side of the room, was Draco: pale faced and fists clenched, with his eyes narrowed directly on Ginny's mother. Ginny thought he looked rather frightening.

"Excuse me," Mrs Weasley began in a coldly dignified voice, but Draco cut her short with a stony glare.

Never had Ginny seen her mother so easily silenced, and, for a moment, she could only stare in awe at her fiancé and the prowess of his glaring eyes.

"Don't ever talk about my family in that way again," Draco ground out in a deep, furious voice. "You don't know anything about the situation, so I suggest that you take your daughter's advice and be quiet so that we can actually tell you what is going on."

Ginny waited for the cauldron to explode, knowing that her mother would never allow someone to talk to her in that way, but Mrs Weasley simply opened and closed her mouth for a moment. Not being able to find her voice, she then looked to her husband for his verdict.

Mr Weasley pushed his glasses up more securely on his nose, his expression placid. "Let the children talk, Molly."

Knowing that she had been defeated on both counts, Mrs Weasley finally stepped down from her pedestal of fury and stared at Draco with a mutinous expression on her face. "Very well," she said in a resigned voice. "Explain."

Draco's eyes narrowed even more, but instead of saying anything rude back to her, he marched over to Ginny and took her hand in his. Ginny stared up at him in surprise, but he only squeezed her hand reassuringly – which she returned, if a little convulsively. She was not sure what he was going to do, but she sure hoped that it worked.

For a moment, Draco just glared at everyone, but then he took a steadying breath and levelled his gaze on her parents' startled faces. "I'm in love with your daughter, and she is in love with me."

The effect of these words was rather comical. Molly gasped loudly; Arthur choked on his own phlegm and started coughing, and Narcissa seemed to be pondering something that made her eyes light up with a secret twinkle. Ginny herself was rather stunned by this bold declaration, but she knew that she too had a part to play in this charade if it was to work.

"He's telling the truth," she stated, turning slightly in order to face her parents. "I love him, and I want to marry him. I know you think that I was forced into this, and maybe I was upset when it first happened, but Mal— Draco is a good man." She turned her face up to her fiancé's and a smile came to her lips that was slightly more than the fake one she had intended. "I know he'll take care of me."

Draco gave the smallest of smiles in return (so small, in fact, that Ginny had to wonder if he had even smiled at all) and then looked towards her parents' stunned faces. A rather mocking look crept into his eyes, and he let go of Ginny's hand and instead looped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him to seal the act of a 'happy couple'. Ginny had to fight the blush that instantly came to her cheeks and tried very hard not to dwell on the fact that her body was now pressed snugly up against his side, or that his warm hand was now resting on her hip.

"So you see, Mrs Weasley," Draco began, once more turning his attention to that shocked and slightly red-faced woman, "trying to stop this marriage won't achieve anything. Not only does the bonding magic not allow us to break the engagement, but you must see that your daughter is happy with me."

He tightened his grip on Ginny's waist and shot her a quick, speaking look, which had Ginny instantly plastering a smile on her lips. Satisfied, Draco looked back to her mother.

"W—Ginny loves me," he continued, "and even though you may not like it, and even though you may not like me, you really do have no choice but to accept it. Unless, of course, you wish to make your daughter unhappy, for that is all you will achieve."

"Is this true, Ginny?" Mrs Weasley asked in a faint voice, not quite able to believe her ears.

Ginny nodded her head and took the opportunity to break away from Draco's hold. It had been very awkward being so close to him, and she didn't like the way he had put his arm around her so naturally. He was acting like she belonged to him already, and even though she knew that he was probably just pretending for the sake of appearances, she couldn't help but feel uneasy all the same.

Mrs Weasley drew herself up to her full height and walked purposefully towards Draco. Ginny felt him tense up next to her but, much to the surprise of all (and Draco especially), that formidable woman merely enfolded him in her arms and gave him a great, smacking kiss on the cheek.

"Well, why didn't you say so?" she cried cheerfully, and then gave him another bone-crushing hug.

Draco glanced at Ginny with pleading eyes, begging her to rescue him from her mother, but Ginny could only laugh. As was typical in the female line of Weasleys, her mother had gone from one extreme to the next. Instead of shouting at the poor young man, she now cooed over him just like she would a favourite son or child. Draco didn't seem to know how to react and stood there like a wooden plank, stiffening at every affectionate pat to his shoulder and every exuberant smile she threw his way.

"Oh, I'm in all a flutter!" Mrs Weasley declared, holding a hand to her heart. "I don't think I've ever felt so silly in my life! Only think how awful I was being to you! You _poor_ _thing_, you should never have let me treat you in that way." She beamed at Draco (who looked very much like he wanted to flee the room) and then laid an imperious hand on his shoulder. "Come now, dear, you must tell me what made you first fall in love with my daughter. I'm very curious to know how this came about."

Draco stuttered something barely intelligible, looking more than a little panicked at the prospect of a tête-à-tête with Ginny's mother. Mrs Weasley smiled, oblivious to his discomfort, and led him over to a seat. Ginny never did manage to find out just what lies he created for her mother's fancy, for a gentle tap on her shoulder caused her own attention to shift from the unlikely duo to her father. Her face lit up with a smile and she impulsively threw her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Oh, Dad, I've missed you so much over this month," Ginny whispered feelingly into his chest, revelling in the feeling of his arms around her and the old, homely smell of his robes. It was a unique smell that she only associated with him, with just a hint of burnt fabric from his tinkering with Muggle objects, and also the slightly spicy smell of his _Old Potion _cologne.

Mr Weasley patted her back soothingly and pulled himself away, smiling. "I've missed you too, Ginny. You've had your mother and I worried sick about you, and that letter of yours gave us quite a fright, I can tell you. We were beginning to fear that you had been forced into this marriage, or worse."

Ginny blinked away the tears that had formed at her eyes and gave a shaky laugh. "I'm sorry. You know me: I always like to make a drama out of everything."

He frowned and tilted her chin up so he could see her face better, his blue eyes silently commanding her to look at him. Ginny found that she could not look away.

"Are you really happy with this engagement, Ginny?" he asked quietly.

She went to say yes, as was expected, but for some reason she found herself hesitating. It was hard to lie to her father, and a small part of her wished to tell him the truth. She was by no means as depressed about the engagement as she had first been when Draco had proposed to her, but she would only be kidding herself if she said that she was truly happy with her situation. She had no wish to marry Draco, and it was only out of resignation that she allowed herself to play along with the charade she herself had concocted.

Her eyes instinctively glanced towards Draco, almost as if she was hoping that looking at him would give her the words to reply to her father's question without completely having to lie. Her mother was still talking rapidly away while he looked as though he were becoming more uncomfortable by the second. There was a panicked look in his eyes, and she could see his forced smile growing steadily edgier until it resembled more of a grimace than a smile. It was amusing to see him so out of his element, and Ginny could only grin as she watched him awkwardly make a reply to her mother.

"Ah, I see," Arthur observed.

"What?" Ginny mumbled, turning back to her father. She had barely realised that he had even spoken to her, and she had certainly not said anything in response to his question.

"Never mind," he replied, smiling. "I'm sure you will be happy with young Malfoy."

Ginny frowned, not quite sure what her father was implying. Before she could ask him, Narcissa Malfoy came walking regally over towards them. It was clear by her gracious smile that she had softened up considerably towards the Weasleys, having realised that neither of Ginny's parents were going to destroy her matchmaking schemes.

"Your wife seems to be quite taken with my son," she remarked to Mr Weasley. "Though, I fear I cannot say the same for him. He is not used to such exuberance."

The two Weasleys looked back towards where Draco and Mrs Weasley were seated cosily (though perhaps not so cosily in Draco's mind) on one of the couches, and Ginny had to try extremely hard not to laugh. By the look of things, her mother was recounting a story of her romance with Ginny's father. She had her hand on Draco's arm and kept sighing wistfully. Draco himself was eyeing the hand on his arm with some misgiving and occasionally shooting uneasy glances at the rapturous redhead beside him. They could not have made a more comic picture: she with her romantic sighs and smiles, and he with his stiff posture and tense expression.

"I'd better go rescue him," Ginny said with a grin, excusing herself to go save her soon-to-be husband from her mother's clutches. It was clear that Draco needed it.

"Stop hogging my fiancé all for yourself, Mum," Ginny accused cheekily, once she was in front of the two. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say it is you who wants to marry him."

Mrs Weasley laughed loudly and disclaimed any such inclination, but she did pinch his cheek and admit that if she were younger, she would certainly have given her daughter a run for her money, for one couldn't deny that he was a handsome lad. Draco goggled in disbelief at Ginny's mother, his face faintly tingeing with pink, but that smiling woman only patted him on the leg and then made her way back to Arthur and Narcissa.

Ginny sat down next to Draco, watching him with her eyes twinkling in friendly mockery. "You should see your face right now; it's quite amusing."

He closed his mouth and tried to regain some semblance of composure, though his cheeks still had the lingering touch of pink. "How would you look if your fiancé's parent started flirting with you?" he demanded, much put out.

Ginny burst out laughing. "Oh, that would be something indeed, but I really doubt that Lucius Malfoy will be flirting with me anytime soon."

She saw his mouth quiver in amusement, a tiny, reluctant smile lifting the corners, and felt her own smile widen in response.

"So tell me," she said in a business-like manner, abruptly changing the subject now that she was satisfied she had managed to get a smile out of him. "What do we do now that we have declared to my parents that we are madly in love with each other?"

"What a charming way to put it," he commented, somewhat amused, and then gave an elegant shrug. "This was your idea; you tell me. I just did what you told me to do."

She bit her lip and tugged on the loose curl hanging over her shoulder. "To tell you the truth, I never really thought that far."

He scowled, and Ginny quickly held her hands up in surrender.

"I never said that I had everything figured out," she explained. "I only got so far as finding a way to placate their tempers to save us from being literally stuck together. I was kind of hoping that you would figure out what we do from here, because I don't know about you, but I don't particularly feel like pretending to be in love with you for the rest of my life."

"I could think of nothing worse," Draco agreed, looking like he might be ill at the thought.

Ginny felt faintly annoyed at his comment. She certainly cherished no wish for Draco to love her, but she did have her pride.

"Right," she said calmly, deciding not to say anything in reply to his rude comment. "So, we need to decide what we are going to do from here. Obviously my parents need to think that we are still in love until we are married, and I think they have every intention of staying in London until then, which means—"

"Lovely," Draco interrupted. "I can already picture how delightful it will be."

"Which means that we will have to keep up the charade at least until then," Ginny continued firmly, ignoring his sarcastic remark.

"Why do I get the feeling that I am going to regret all of this by tomorrow?" he asked no one in particular. "I should never have let myself be persuaded into thinking you had some sense and actually had a plan when you demanded I pretend to be in love with you."

Ginny threw her hands up in the air in frustration. He was absolutely impossible. No wonder they could never have a civil conversation.

"Fine!" she snapped, though not loud enough for her parents to hear. "Complain like you always do, but don't expect any sympathy from me! In case you have forgotten, _Malfoy_, you were the one who allowed your mother to persuade you to propose to me. All of this is on your own head, and if you can't see that, than I guess I'll just wash my hands off the whole affair and leave you to deal with my parents and their tempers yourself!"

Draco stared at her suspiciously for a moment, as if trying to determine whether she was actually being serious or not. He seemed to decide that she was not, for he was soon rolling his eyes.

"You don't need to take everything I say so seriously, you know?" he responded. "I'm not going to break our agreement. I do, however, want to know what it is that you're expecting from me. I'll pretend to be in love with you if that is what it takes, but I refuse to hang all over you just because your parents are around. Pretend or not, I'm not kissing you for anyone."

Ginny didn't know why she blushed at the mention of kissing, but so it was that she could feel her cheeks heating. She could only hope that they were not too red.

"I don't think we really need to go that far," she said, fruitlessly trying to regain her composure. "I'm sure just being nice to me will be enough to satisfy them."

"Are you blushing?" Draco suddenly demanded, eyeing her in some bewilderment yet amusement at the same time.

It was clear that he had no clue why her cheeks were flushing a brilliant shade of pink, and his puzzlement only increased her embarrassment. She inwardly cursed her unruly blood and held a hand to her cheek.

"No!" she replied defiantly, even though she could still feel her face burning. It was just her luck, really.

He laughed (making her feel even more embarrassed) and gave her a rather mocking smirk that oozed with arrogance. "Yes you are."

Ginny folded her arms and glared darkly at him. "Well, so what?" she snapped. "I can blush if I want to. It's not like it means anything. Girls blush all the time."

She saw that infernal eyebrow of his rise, and she let out an irritable huff. He was so annoying sometimes and, unable to bear that mocking expression, Ginny turned completely in her seat so that she was glaring at the wall. Somehow, he always managed to put her out of countenance, and Ginny hated it with a passion. If he didn't have to be so irritating, she was sure she could stomach being engaged to him. After all, for a moment there she almost had found herself softening towards him, but once again he proved himself to be no more than an insufferable idiot. There simply was no tolerating him.

Draco chuckled softly. "Are you going to turn into the maiden of outraged virtue on me now?"

When Ginny said nothing and showed every sign of continuing her glaring contest with the wall, Draco placed his hand on her shoulder, forcing her eyes to dart like daggers to his. She really was not sure why she was getting so furious over such a trivial matter, but Ginny was never practical, nor was she feeling up to admitting that she was being silly.

"Weasley," he said in a low voice, keeping her eyes locked with his. "I don't know why you blushed, and frankly I don't really want to know either. Merlin knows I've had enough with women telling me their fantasies, and I'd rather not hear yours. In any case, if you don't start lightening that scowl on your face, your parents are going to start to get suspicious, and then all of our pretending to be in love with each other will be a waste."

"I do _not_ fantasise about you," Ginny gritted out through her teeth, pushing his hand roughly off her shoulder. "And if you want me to stop scowling, than stop being such an insufferable pig!"

His eyes narrowed. "I wasn't the one acting like some missish twit! _Merlin_, you act like I'm some big bad wolf for asking why you're blushing. I've treated you with nothing but respect!"

"Respect?" Ginny retorted with a snort of laughter. "You call the way you've treated me respectful?"

"Yes, I do, and I've treated you with far more respect than you deserve!" he shot back, glaring at her. "You should be thankful that I have enough damn respect not to force myself on you like some men would. I didn't barge into your room and yell at you when you wouldn't talk to me for two days after I had proposed. I haven't tried to touch you, or kiss you, and I certainly haven't beaten you for your impertinent outbursts like I know other men would have done. You've got it pretty damn lucky with me, Weasley – much more so than other women in your situation do."

Ginny could not bear meeting those hard grey eyes any longer and lowered her head to stare at her lap. She felt oddly like crying. Perhaps it was because she had realised the truth in his words, or maybe it was because, for the first time, he seemed sincerely and justly angry with her. She could give no witty retort in reply, and there was no hope of justifying her actions. She was defeated in every possible way.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, still not looking at him.

She looked absurdly youthful right now in her shame, and even the nice dress and all the jewels she was wearing could not disguise her childish appearance. It was a testament to how hard she was taking his rebuke.

He let out an exasperated breath and looked the other way. "Forget it."

Ginny felt her stomach sink at his words and her eyes instinctively lifted to search his face for some sign of the Draco she was used to. She could only see his side profile, and what she could see of that was not comforting. She could tell by the tightness around his jaw that he was still angry with her. It was upsetting, not just because she felt justly rebuked by his words, but also because she had come to realise that she did not like it when he was truly angry with her. She could handle him when he was being arrogant and sarcastic, for then she could reply in kind, but this dignified anger was so hard to deal with. This made her feel cold and somehow more foolish than when he mocked her. She didn't like it one bit. She just wanted things to go back to how they were before. She didn't want this horrible strain between them. Things were hard enough as they were.

However, Ginny knew the sudden rift between them wasn't completely her fault. If he didn't always push her temper to its limit, she would not get so defensive all the time. He had shown her respect – that much she could admit – but he was not exactly 'nice' to her, and the situation they were in only made matters worse. Still, she had been acting foolish – she realised that now – and knew that it was up to her to make it right. As painful as it was for her pride to admit, she would not be happy until she knew that he had forgiven her.

"Draco."

"What?" he snapped, turning back to glare at her.

Ginny blanched slightly at the hardness in his eyes, but she knew that she had to do this.

"I really am sorry," she said in a small, subdued voice. "I know that you've only treated me with as much respect as I deserved, and I know that I have not made it easy for you. I've been a right idiot, and I know you're just as much a victim in this as I am." She tentatively reached out and touched his hand, causing his dark scowl to flicker as a flash of surprise passed over his face. "Can you forgive me for being so immature?"

He stared at her in stunned disbelief, seeming to be at a complete loss for words. He glanced down at her hand resting on his, then quickly looked back at her face. Ginny was relieved to find that the harshness in his eyes that had so much disturbed her was gone. He just looked surprised and more than a little confused.

Draco frowned at her for a moment and then slowly nodded his head. She smiled in relief, but before she could say anything more, Narcissa interrupted by demanding to know if either of them planned on coming back to the dining hall. There were still guests waiting, after all, and if they hoped to have any sort of respect from their peers, it was imperative that they come now before the gossipmongers started to get carried away.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I guess we have no choice, though I'd rather not have to face those harpies right now."

Draco chuckled, the sound like magic to Ginny's ears. "What did you call them?" he asked curiously, now watching her in some amusement. It was as if their argument had never happened.

She smiled a little ruefully. "I called them 'harpies.' It's all I can think of when I see them."

"You seem to have a knack with coming up with degrading nicknames for people. I'm still trying to hide my shame at the one you so graciously gave to me."

Ginny let out a peel of laughter. "I had almost forgot about that! I'm surprised you remembered!"

Draco shrugged. "One doesn't easily forget being called a terrier. I assure you, my ego was quite blighted."

She smiled cheekily. "Perhaps I did you a favour then."

"Ginevra, Draco, what are you two doing?" Narcissa demanded, looking quite scandalised that her commands had not been immediately obeyed.

Ginny saw that her parents had already gone. She and Draco had been the only ones left in the room and had not even realised.

"Oops," Ginny muttered. She stood up from the seat and glanced down at Draco, a rather impish smile coming to her lips. "Coming?"

"I suppose so," he said, standing up. "My mother might have a fit otherwise."

Ginny giggled and took his proffered arm. "As much as I like your mother, Draco, she really is the most oddest woman for expecting everyone to do as she says."

"Really? I thought all women were like that," he said innocently, earning a light swipe on his arm from Ginny.

Narcissa turned and stared haughtily at the both of them, firmly cutting short any more conversations or arguments that might have ensued. It was clear that she was not impressed with their behaviour. No doubt she expected them to be acting just as emotionless and dignified as she was. Ginny didn't think that was quite possible for someone like herself.

"I have never met a sillier bunch of children," Narcissa scolded them. "You'd think the two of you actually want to be the talk of town."

Ginny and Draco both shared a smile, knowing that each was thinking the same thing about his mother, and then quietly walked past Narcissa and back into the dining hall. Every head in the room turned to look at them, causing Ginny to freeze in panic as she found herself confronted with several pairs of glaring eyes. She had never faced such cold looks in her life; well, except from her darling fiancé, of course.

Draco guided her forward, murmuring into her ear, "Just ignore them. They'll soon grow tired of glaring at us."

The glares only intensified after that. No doubt the women thought that he had just given her a lover's whisper. Ginny could have snorted aloud at the thought. The day Draco did that would be a very odd one indeed.

Draco released her arm and pulled out a seat for her. Ginny smiled and thanked him (earning even more glares), and then took the seat next to her mother. Draco sat down next to her, while Narcissa resumed her seat at the head of the table. Some people were whispering amongst themselves, but Narcissa's chilly eyes found them, and those people soon fell silent.

"My friends," Narcissa said smoothly, though her eyes glinted icily. "Perhaps you have taken to the idea that my son and his fiancée are not happily engaged. I would dispel that foolish notion right now. The Weasleys, unfortunately, were misguided by a letter, but all has been righted and I can assure you that the wedding will still be happening."

Mrs Weasley beamed at Draco, who valiantly forced a smile back. This display of friendliness seemed to settle most people's curiosity, and soon the collection of purebloods were back to talking in their own groups, though a little more quietly. Ginny had no doubt that they were still discussing her upcoming marriage with Draco.

Daphne Greengrass suddenly started sniggering to herself. Ginny stared at the blonde curiously, for Daphne was seated directly opposite herself.

"Oh, I can't wait to tell Alexia about this," Daphne exclaimed with a wicked smile. "She is going to be so jealous."

Everyone in the vicinity to hear her voice stared at her, but that flirtatious damsel only flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder and winked at Ginny.

"You've stolen a march on us all, Weasley, but I don't fault you for it. It's about time that French snob realised that not everyone is in love with her."

Blaise Zabini rolled his eyes. "No doubt you believe that's your role, right, Daphne?"

"Of course," she replied candidly. "I'm the only beautiful blonde allowed."

Ginny blinked, but the men seemed to be used to such remarks, for not one of them batted an eyelash.

"I'm glad you're a redhead," Daphne continued, now eyeing Ginny appraisingly. "I would have to hate you if you were too beautiful, of course, but you're not." She nodded her head decidedly to herself. "Yes, I have quite made up my mind to take you under my wing. I'm sure that we'll be the best of friends."

Once again, Ginny was stunned into silence. She looked to Draco for some sort of explanation.

"Is she actually serious?" Ginny whispered, not quite daring to believe it herself. Surely no one could be so fickle.

Draco smiled wryly. "Daphne has probably realised that it would make her look more foolish to hate you. I would say that she is quite serious."

Ginny looked back at the smiling blonde a little uncertainly. "Uh, thank you, I suppose."

Daphne giggled. "Oh, I know you probably hate me for the way I was treating you before, but don't worry, love, you're in the mode now. Only an idiot would still hate you now that you're engaged to Draco."

"How lucky for me," Ginny remarked dryly, now finding the whole situation ridiculous.

Daphne didn't seem to notice Ginny's sarcasm, but Armand had, judging by the way he was trying not to spit out his drink.

Draco gave him an exasperated look, saying just as dryly as Ginny had, "Try to have some finesse, cousin."

Armand apologised and the rest of dinner went by quite smoothly. It seemed that Narcissa had been right: there were benefits in being with Draco, for her night took a decidedly pleasanter turn. Only a few of the women remained stubbornly angry with her, and the males were more than willing to talk to her now. They were all curious to know what had made Draco choose her, so Ginny found herself the centre of attention for the whole night. She would be lying if she admitted that she did not enjoy it.

However, there were still things to trouble her. She had discovered from Daphne that Julian had left three days ago for Italy and had no intention of returning any time soon. Ginny knew that she still had feelings for him, but she was glad that he had left all the same. She hoped that not having him near her would allow her to move on.

Ginny sighed as she clambered into her bed, staring up into the darkness of her room. Things were so strange now. She had never thought when she had come to London for her début in society that she would end up being engaged to Draco Malfoy. Who knew what was going to happen now?


	13. Ups and Downs

**Ups and Downs**

The next few days saw Ginny decidedly happier. For once, she had been able to sleep right through the night. The unwanted guests had also finally left (though Ginny had somehow been persuaded into accepting invitations to parties from nearly all the women she had fondly labelled 'haughty harpies,' including Daphne, Pansy and, oddly enough, Celestia), and even Alexia had not managed to spoil her good mood. Perhaps she owed that more to Daphne, as that pretty damsel had disclosed to Alexia in the most sympathetic (and gleefully wicked) way that the wedding could not possibly be called off, and that Draco himself had admitted that he was in love with Ginny. Alexia had been so furiously jealous by this information that she had not managed to say a single word to Ginny. Indeed, her face was so red with vicious anger that it seemed more likely she would explode.

Triumphant in her victory over the snobbish Alexia, Ginny had graciously allowed herself to be persuaded into staying at Malfoy manor until the wedding. Her parents also were invited to stay, though it was decided most wisely that Lucius would not know of the new guests until the wedding day. This, however, did not bother Ginny (she not having any desire to face Lucius Malfoy), and so the only hiccup to her good mood was the depressing promise of a visit to her godmother that afternoon. A luncheon with Celia could only end in disaster, but Ginny could find no more excuses for putting it off. After all, Ginny did owe a lot to her godmother, and it was only natural that she should thank Celia for her hospitality, however reluctant she might be to do so.

Armand seemed to sense a drop in his companion's mood and made it his mission to get her smiling again. He succeeded quite well in helping her forget the ominous luncheon, for it was hard not to be entertained by his very energetic recitals of past visits to Malfoy manor. One in particular had Ginny almost crying with mirth, in which a nine-year-old Draco and a seven-year-old Armand stole a broom and took it for a flight around the manor. Unfortunately for them, Draco had not quite mastered the art of turning, so both boys had dramatically crashed into the west-wing turret and had only just managed to stop themselves from being hurtled over the tower when their cloaks got caught on the tiles.

Armand disclosed with a laugh that he and Draco had been stuck up there for more than an hour before one of the house-elves finally spotted them, and the only welcome the two very distraught boys received once they got to the ground was a clout around the ears from Narcissa and a stern lecture that left both boys feeling very subdued.

"Though," Armand confessed with a rueful smile, "Aunt Cissy's reprimands were nowhere near as bad as Uncle Lucius's. That cane of his became the bane of our existence, and it never helped that Alexia would always tell on us because we never used to let her join in. She was so stupid though, and she'd always cry."

Ginny giggled, but any further reminisces were cut short as Narcissa told Armand to cease boring Ginevra with stories of his childish antics and to go stop his sister from sulking herself into a decline. Merlin knew she should have realised by now that marrying Draco had always been out of the question. This melodrama was quite unbecoming of a girl her age.

Armand wisely acquiesced to his aunt's wishes, and so it was that Ginny was once again left to her own devices. The stories, however, had done the trick. Once more she was in high spirits and feeling very much at peace with the world. Even Draco had done nothing to upset her, though how long that would last was an entirely different matter.

So far he had been quite civil towards her, even going so far as to procure her a bunch of wild flowers. Of course, Ginny later found out that the flowers had actually been gathered for his horse to eat and that he had only given them to her as an afterthought, since he supposed it would help consolidate his supposed love for her. Ginny was a little put-off by this knowledge, but the flowers were quite pretty, and she supposed it was still something coming from him.

The discovery that he had a horse was much more satisfactory. She herself had never owned or ridden a horse (as they were quite expensive to maintain and were not really needed in the wizarding world, thanks to the invention of brooms, Portkeys and Apparation), but it seemed that the Malfoys kept quite a few well-bred stallions and mares in their stables. Ginny soon learnt that most purebloods in high society kept horses, as riding a horse was seen as more dignified than riding a broom. She didn't really care about such stuffy rubbish, but she was very excited to try her hand at horse riding, and all but demanded that Draco allow her to ride his horse.

Draco refused to let her ride his own horse, but he did agree to take her horse riding. Armand, overhearing the exchange, demanded to be allowed to come too, and so all three of them headed to the stables. Alexia seemed determined to stay in her room and sulk – unbecoming behaviour or not – though Draco, Ginny and Armand did not seem to be too troubled by her absence.

Ginny was eager to see what Draco's horse was like, but once she saw her fiancé's spirited, grey stallion, she was quite thankful that he had put his foot down in not letting her ride it. The horse was very large and, to be frank, quite scary. It stared at her suspiciously through dark eyes, seeming to have taken an immediate dislike to her, and tossed its head challengingly. Ginny warily watched the stallion stamp its large hooves, as if daring her to come closer. She chose to back away.

Armand let out a small chuckle. "A wise choice. Draco's horse is as prickly as he is himself to strangers. Though, when I think about it," he added, casting a sly grin at his cousin, "your horse doesn't like anyone except you. You know, it's uncanny how similar the two of you are."

Draco only smirked and fondly patted his horse's nose. "Just shows he has good taste, right, Ulysses?"

"Ulysses?" Ginny questioned, looking at both men curiously.

Armand sniggered. "Draco named his horse 'Ulysses' after the Greek adventurer. You know – the one who thought of the Trojan horse. He was supposed to be very cunning, or so they say."

Ginny vaguely recalled something about Greeks and Trojan horses in her basic history classes as a child, but she had never been particularly enthusiastic about those lessons. She was more interested in learning about spells and potions, though she had not been allowed to use a wand. The wizarding educational system, however, seemed to think that it was important for all magical children to learn about general world history. They were especially interested in that of the old Romans and Greeks, for, more often than not, magic folk had somehow played a part in shaping those great events of the past. The gods, after all, were actually powerful wizards and witches who had used their magic to control and manipulate the much weaker Muggles. This was soon stopped under the first Muggle Protection Act, but their acts still lived on in legends and myths in both the Muggle and wizarding world.

She did not remember who Ulysses was from her classes, but she was not going to let the Malfoys know that.

"Oh," was all Ginny managed to say, giving a rather vacant smile and nod.

It was the age-old tactic of smiling and nodding when one didn't quite understand what was being said. Ginny happened to excel at this art, having spent years listening to Hermione blather on about Merlin knew what.

"Of course," Armand continued, "Ulysses was also very arrogant." A rather playful grin settled on his face as he turned to his cousin. "Another trait you share with your horse, perhaps?"

Draco only rolled his eyes and continued fixing the saddle on his horse, which, uncannily enough, was looking very haughty and important at that moment. Ulysses was certainly living up to his namesake, Ginny thought with a smile.

"So what's your horse called, then?" she asked curiously, now turning her attention to the chestnut horse Armand was saddling.

This one was much less impressive in appearance than Ulysses, not being as big, but it was still a beautiful horse. Its eyes were softer, and there was a single white strip running down the centre of its nose.

"His horse is called 'Châtaigne,'" Draco replied in some amusement. Clearly he thought Armand's choice of name was just as diverting as Armand had found his.

Ginny's brow creased in confusion. "Is that French? What does it mean?"

Draco leant against the wall of the stable and folded his arms, his eyes flashing with friendly mockery at his cousin. "Typical of Armand, it is both unimaginative and clichéd."

"Well?" Ginny prompted, still having no idea what the name meant, and feeling sadly left out of the joke.

"It means 'chestnut'. Not very original, as you can see," Draco replied, gesturing to the chestnut horse.

Ginny laughed appreciatively and cast an amused glance at Armand. "How very fitting."

Armand just shrugged and gave his boyish grin. "So what? Châtaigne likes his name. He doesn't need some dead person to give him consequence."

Laughing again, Ginny looked to Draco to see how he would react, but he was just smiling at the younger blond in what could only be described as cousinly affection. It was quite a shock for Ginny to see such a soft emotion on her fiancé's normally haughty face, and, for a moment, she could only stare. His steel-like eyes, which were usually so hard, somehow seemed less piercing and cold, and this in turn lessened the harshness of his features, giving him a much more approachable appearance. The smile playing on his mouth was neither mocking nor reserved, and Ginny could only describe it as pleasant.

"I think Châtaigne should count himself lucky you were not in a creative mood that day," Draco teased, and Ginny was sad to see the pleasant smile fade away into a smirk. "He'd probably end up being called '_Cheval'_."

Armand let out a shout of laughter, but once again Ginny was left feeling confused.

"What does that mean?" she asked, bewildered by all these French words.

Draco glanced at her, a smile lingering in his eyes. "It means 'horse'."

Ginny frowned to herself. How could that be any more creative? If anything, calling a horse 'horse' was even less creative. She didn't understand, but judging by the way Armand was laughing, and by the way Draco was trying not to, they obviously found it very funny.

"I don't get it," she complained, feeling more than unusually stupid.

"My cousin seems to think that the more obvious something is, the more creative he is being," Draco explained, his smirk widening. "Hence, to him, calling his horse 'horse' would be more creative than, let's say, calling his horse after a well-known wizard or witch."

Armand clambered up onto Châtaigne and grinned broadly at his cousin. "And what's wrong with that? We're not all boring and bookish like you. Some of us actually don't care about fusty people from the past. We'd much prefer to name our animals after things that matter: like their colour, or their breed."

Draco just shook his head. "Whatever you say, Armand." He glanced at Ginny and, completely ignoring his cousin's cheeky grin, gestured for her to come closer to him. "This is the horse you'll be riding."

Ginny had to restrain herself from letting out a girlish squeak of ecstasy when she saw the horse he was leading out. The white mare was possibly one of the most beautiful horses she had seen in her life, and was so pure in colour that it reminded her of crisp, white snow.

She reached out her hand and stroked the soft mane, giving a childish smile to Draco as she did so. "What's her name?"

"Her name is Winter. She's my mother's horse."

"I can't ride your mother's horse!" Ginny exclaimed in horror, pulling her hand away.

She wouldn't dream of touching Narcissa's horse, even if it was beautiful.

Draco shrugged away her protestations with a careless wave of his hand. "Don't worry about it. She never rides Winter now." He frowned suddenly. "Have you ridden a horse before?"

Ginny shook her head. Draco then spent the next few minutes going over what she should expect from the horse and what she should and should not do while riding. Ginny tried to remember as much as possible, but was relieved when Draco laughed suddenly (probably at her anxious expression) and said that if she had any problems, she just had to call out to him.

"I won't let you break your neck, Weasley," he said with a teasing grin.

Ginny wasn't sure if she was comforted by that promise or not, especially when he was smiling in such a way, but she said nothing in reply and simply watched as he got the horse ready for her to ride. He then led Winter out of the stable, gesturing for her to follow.

"Ready?" he asked, looking at her through those steady, grey eyes.

Ginny nodded and allowed him to help her up onto the white mare. She tried to get as comfortable and secure as she could in the saddle, not liking the thought that she might fall off while riding. She was feeling suddenly very nervous now that she was actually on the horse. It was a lot higher up than she had thought, and while she had been higher on a broom, it was very different when one knew one's stead would not always listen to one's commands. Horses, after all, have brains of their own, unlike brooms, which were charmed to follow the slightest touch.

On voicing these fears, Draco only smirked and told her to stop being so chicken-hearted. Ginny lifted her chin haughtily and told him in no uncertain terms that Gryffindors were never chicken-hearted.

This seemed to amuse Draco greatly, causing him to say quite mockingly, though not meanly, "Prove it."

Ginny held her reins tightly, a determined glint coming into her brown eyes. "I will."

"Come on, you two!" Armand called, clearly getting impatient. "I don't want to be sitting outside a stable all day."

Draco nodded and moved over to Ulysses. Ginny watched in some jealously as he gracefully swung himself up into the saddle and reined in his spirited horse with a simple pull at the reins. She promised herself then and there that she would work hard to improve her skills at horse riding. She hated knowing that he was better than her at something. He could already dance better than her – and fly, she grudgingly had to admit.

Ginny huffed to herself. There was no stomaching it. She would just have to practise more.

The three of them moved out of the stables, (Draco pulling on Ginny's reins to help her manoeuvre Winter) and then stopped on the grass. Armand wanted to have a race, but Draco shook his head and said that Ginny had to take things slow. Ginny secretly was grateful, for her pride would have made her accept the challenge if Draco had not intervened. Of course, she realised the only conclusion of such a race would be her with a broken neck, but it was very difficult for her to back down from a challenge. She was headstrong and often stubborn to a fault, and that meant she had difficulty realising when to back down from tasks beyond her capabilities.

Slightly disappointed, and not content to travel at the staid pace that Ginny would favour, Armand said that he would go on ahead. Draco nodded, and both he and Ginny watched as Armand gave them a cheery wave before shooting off into the hills. Ginny couldn't believe how fast he was going, and could only watch in awe and slight apprehension. Surely no one would expect her to go that fast?

Draco waited patiently for Ginny, knowing that it was his duty to make sure she was all right. His mother would probably kill him if he didn't – that is if Mr and Mrs Weasley didn't get to him first. Ginny herself could only stare in trepidation at the rugged hills. For all her excitement and talk, she suddenly found that her Gryffindor bravery had quite deserted her. Winter seemed content with standing where she was, and, in a way, Ginny was as well. Perhaps it would be better if she just went back to the house: at least she'd be safe there.

Draco lifted an eyebrow at her, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Don't tell me you're giving up already? You were the one who wanted to ride a horse, remember?"

Ginny blushed faintly but lifted her chin up all the same. "I'm not giving up. I was just admiring the view."

Draco's eyebrow rose just a bit higher, but he said nothing in reply. Instead, he inclined his head gracefully, gesturing with his hand for her to take the lead. Ginny stared back at the hills, swallowing her nerves and wondering if she could really do this. She could just go back to the manor, of course, but then Draco would call her chicken-hearted, and she could not bear that. There was nothing for it; she would just have to suck up her fear and do this.

Taking in a deep breath, Ginny twitched the reins to get Winter to move, but the horse remained stubbornly still. Indeed, Winter seemed more impressed with the grass at her feet than moving at Ginny's feeble commands. Even her rider's grumpy "hyah" could not get her to move an inch.

Draco started chuckling and Ginny could feel her cheeks burning in embarrassment. She was very ready to believe that her face would be rivalling the red of a sunset right now, and, with her flaming red hair, she was quite sure that she would look like her whole head was on fire. It was what one most hated about being a redhead.

"You'll have to be more forceful than that," Draco remarked, smirk firmly in place.

Ginny glowered at him before turning her attention back to her stubborn stead. "Move!" she whispered fiercely, giving Winter a light kick to her flanks.

Winter tossed her head irritably and started going backwards towards the stable. Ginny could have cried in frustration, not only because she could hear Draco's amused laughter ringing in her ears, but also because she had no idea how to make the horse stop.

Draco moved his own horse up next to hers and gave her a rather lazy smile. "Need some help?"

She scowled unpleasantly at him, still trying to steady her mare. "Why did you give me this horse? All she wants to do is eat and go backwards."

He laughed and reached out to grab Ginny's reins. Winter, recognising the hand of a master, settled down and stood still. Ginny bit down any jealous remarks she might have said. She had to be grateful that Draco had taken pity on her and helped her before things got any more out of hand. This was not the time to be as stubborn as her stead.

"It's because you're too unconfident," Draco explained calmly, still holding onto her reins. "She can feel your unease and so won't listen."

"Of course I'm unconfident!" Ginny retorted somewhat peevishly. "I've never ridden a horse before, have I?"

"There's no need to get worked up over it," he replied with a smirk. "Just relax."

Ginny glared at him. It was very hard to relax when one was being smirked at. She just knew that he was taking immense pleasure in her failure as a horsewoman right now. If only she could wipe that smirk of his face . . .

"There's no need to glare either," Draco said in a slightly amused voice.

"Just tell me how to get this horse to move," Ginny grumbled, quite sick of his mockery.

She had never expected to be this bad at horse riding and felt quite irritated at both herself and her annoying fiancé.

Draco's eyes lit up with mischief, and Ginny suddenly had a horrible feeling of foreboding. She watched in apprehension as he let go of the reins and raised his hand in the air.

"Don't you dare, Draco Malfoy!" Ginny threatened in a low, anxious voice, realising what he was going to do.

He just smirked that infernal smirk of his and then slapped his hand down on Winter's bottom. Immediately, the horse let out a loud neigh and set off into the hills at a speed that made Ginny's stomach drop several feet. She clutched tightly at the reins, her red hair streaming out behind her, all the while screaming bloody murder for her fiancé. Her day had surely just taken a severe turn for the worst.

"Don't let go!" Draco shouted tauntingly, and then started laughing at how ridiculous she looked.

Ginny was too frightened to make a retort and could only hold onto the reins for dear life while the hills blurred past her in splotches of green. She was beginning to feel her body sliding in the saddle and, with her stomach clenching sickeningly, turned her head back towards her laughing fiancé.

"MAKE IT STOOOOOOOOOOOP!"

Draco saw her leg slip out of the stirrup and immediately stopped laughing. "Damn!" he muttered, and quickly raced after her on Ulysses.

He could see Ginny trying to stay on the saddle and felt his own heart jolt painfully in his chest at the thought that she might fall. Not only would it be his fault, but she could very easily be killed by breaking her neck or by Winter trampling her. He couldn't let that happen.

"Hold on!" he shouted more earnestly this time, spurring Ulysses to move faster so that he could catch up to the runaway mare.

"I'm trying!" Ginny shrieked back, and then let out a frightened scream as Winter turned sharply and almost threw her off the saddle.

Draco swore under his breath and urged Ulysses to go even faster. He started closing in on Ginny and reached out his hand to grab at Winter's reins, but the horse only tossed its head and tried to change direction again. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Ginny slipping right out of the saddle, and he quickly grabbed at her waist to steady her.

"Let go of the reins!" he commanded, letting go of his own reins to grasp her waist with both of his hands. It was an awkward position, and he knew that he would not be able to hold her for long.

"Are you kidding?" Ginny yelled. "I'll fall!"

"Trust me! You won't fall!"

Ginny met his grey eyes for a second, hesitated, and then scrunched up her face and let go of the reins. She had the sudden impression that she was weightless, but then she was pulled onto Ulysses' saddle and found herself wrapped securely in Draco's arms. It was an odd position to be in, for it was almost as if she was hugging him: her face pressed up against his chest and her own arms wrapped tight around him. In that moment, though, Ginny had no desire to let him go, even if he was Draco Malfoy and had been the one to cause this mess. He was solid and secure, and she was feeling considerably shaken. His body provided a much needed physical comfort.

Draco relaxed his hold on her and instead went to task in reining in his own horse. Ulysses slowed down and eventually came to a stop. Winter was long gone into the distance. Draco sighed and could only hope that the horse would come back. He felt more than a little stupid right now, but he had not expected Ginny to get so frightened, nor, for that matter, had he expected Winter to get so wild. She was normally such a placid horse, but it seemed that his mother's lack of riding the mare had made Winter a bit unruly.

He glanced down at Ginny, who was still holding him tightly. "Are you alright?"

Ginny shook her head and let out a shaky breath. Draco privately wondered if she was going to let go of him any time soon. Her death grip was beginning to get quite painful.

She sniffed heartily, a tell-tale sign that she had been crying, and then, much to his relief, Ginny finally released her hold on him and lifted her tear sprinkled face up to his. Her eyes suddenly narrowed as if she had only just remembered what had happened, and she made an odd noise, like an angry kitten, giving his chest a hard slap.

"You could have killed me!" she accused hoarsely, her breasts heaving in indignation.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, not even bothering to defend himself. "I should not have done it."

"No, you shouldn't have!" Ginny retorted. "You knew that I was scared of the horse! You knew that I didn't know how to ride one, and you – you stupid, unfeeling idiot – decided to have a laugh and make the horse go running off and nearly kill me!"

"I already told you I'm sorry!" he snapped, losing his temper. "How was I supposed to know that you would freak out that much, or that Winter would try throw you off? Merlin, you act like I actually wanted to get you killed!"

Ginny scowled darkly up at him. "I wouldn't put it past you. Maybe you were just hoping to make a clean escape from this marriage by killing me with your horse."

"Don't be ridiculous," Draco said exasperatedly, running a hand through his hair. "I wouldn't have saved you if I wanted you dead."

"I wouldn't have needed saving if _you_—" she poked him hard in the chest "—hadn't acted like an idiot!"

"It was a joke!"

"Well that _joke_ almost got me killed!"

"I already said I'm sorry. What more do you want?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and looked away, but Draco grasped her chin with his fingers and forced her to look back at him. Her eyes narrowed fiercely.

"Don't touch me!" she spat coldly, swiping his hand away from her face.

He released her completely then, but as they were still on the horse and very much close together due to sharing the saddle, this did not give much room for either of them.

"Fine!" he retorted. "Be an immature brat! See what I care! I've made my apology, and if you can't accept it, then that's your problem! Merlin knows I should have realised you'd be just as spiteful and ungrateful as you always are."

Ginny's bosom swelled with indignation. "Spiteful and ungrateful? You've got to be joking! I've sacrificed my whole future for your mother's stupid whim! Not to mention sucked up my pride and resentment for you so that we could at least try to be happy in this horrible marriage! I thought maybe we could at least learn to tolerate each other, but you've proven yourself to be just as heartless and selfish as I thought you were! You delight in making me upset, and you're only apologising now because I almost got hurt! You know just as much as I do that had I not nearly fallen off the horse, you would still be laughing at my expense!"

Draco's eyes grew dark in his rage until they resembled fierce storm clouds. Right now he felt very much like wringing her stubborn little neck, his hands twitching at the thought. He did feel guilty for what he had done, but her attitude and rudeness was not softening his mood.

"That's not true," he replied in a low, angry voice.

She snorted derisively. "Of course you would say that. You would never admit how horrible you actually are."

His eyes flashed dangerously. "I would not say another word if I were you, Ginevra. You're treading a fine line."

Ginny lifted her chin. "What are you going to do? Hit me?" Her eyes gleamed mockingly, almost challengingly. "I thought you said you had more respect than that."

Draco grabbed her roughly by her shoulders and glared down at her, practically shaking her in his rage. Ginny felt a little alarmed and struggled against his grip, but he was much stronger and held her firmly in place.

"Respect?" he repeated, his eyes flaring with frustration and hurt. "You don't even deserve my respect! You've insulted me more than enough, and by Merlin I will not sit here and listen to you rip my character to shreds all because of a silly joke that I admitted I should not have done." His grip tightened, and Ginny was sure that a bruise would quickly form, but it was the absolute disgust and cold fury in his hard, grey eyes that made her wince. "Grow up, Ginevra, or you will quickly lose what little respect I do have for you, and _then_ you will be sorry!"

He released her suddenly, allowing Ginny to tentatively touch her throbbing shoulders to see how much damage his fingers had done. Her eyes were stinging painfully and something warm trickled down her cheek. She wiped the tear away and tried hard not to allow any more to fall. His words had hurt her more than his bruising fingers, for she truly did hate him to be angry with her. She cursed herself for letting her temper get the better of her and cursed him for making her lose her temper in the first place. She had just been so frightened and upset, and he had been the one who had caused her to be so shaken. It was only natural to take her temper out on him, but, as usual, she always had to take that one step too far. He probably hated her now.

Ginny sniffed to herself, trying desperately not to cry. She was too stubborn to admit that she had been acting foolish, and though she hated Draco to be angry with her and felt frustrated that this had to happen after things were going so well between them, she could not bring herself to apologise. She just wanted to get away from him. She couldn't bear being close to him right now.

"Let me off this horse," she said quietly, still not looking at him.

"Don't be stupid," Draco said coldly. "It's too far to walk, and it looks like it will rain."

Indeed, they were now a long distance from the manor, and the grey clouds had quickly faded into black, leaving the heavy feeling of rain lingering in the air.

Ginny's lip trembled. "I don't care! I won't stay with you on this horse any longer! I'd rather walk back to the manor than stay here with you!"

Pushing him back roughly, Ginny slid her legs over the saddle and dropped to the ground, getting ground-shock in the process. Draco tried to stop her by grasping at her arm, but Ginny shook him off and started stomping ahead. Something wet fell on her cheek that was not a tear, and she instinctively looked up to see raindrops falling down from the bruised grey sky. She scowled darkly, thinking it was just her luck to have this happen. Thankfully, the rain did not seem to be coming down too hard, and Ginny hoped that she could get back before the real storm set in. But luck was not on her side it seemed. Big, fat rain droplets started splattering down on her and only got worse by the second. Ginny made a face, already feeling her white dress getting soaked.

The sound of horse hooves came up behind her, and Ginny looked behind her to see Draco coming up on Ulysses. She scowled even more and increased her speed.

"Go away, Malfoy! I'm not going back with you!"

"Who says you have a choice?" he said coolly, coming up next to her. "If you think I am going to let you get soaked in all this rain and get sick, you're highly mistaken."

"I can do what I want! You don't own me yet!"

He just rolled his eyes. "Stop being such a drama queen and get on the horse."

Ginny stamped her foot, looking every part the drama queen he had just called her. "I won't!"

Sighing in exasperation, Draco simply reached down and hauled her up onto the horse. Ginny squirmed frantically to get free of his hold, but he held her tight against him. Without preamble, he urged his horse into a gallop, so that Ginny had no choice but to accept defeat. Her position was very awkward and the movement of the horse only made it worse, for their bodies were forced to move with each other in a way that would have made any inexperienced girl blush. Even amongst all her anger, Ginny was still sensible of the embarrassing situation that she was in, and wished that Draco would loosen his hold on her waist so that she didn't have to be so close to him.

"Do you have to hold me so tight?" she muttered, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle, her cheeks burning.

"You might try jump off again, and then you probably will break your neck," Draco replied brusquely, not loosening his hold.

Both his arms were looped around her waist so that he could actually get to the reins, but one hand was firmly holding her against him, while the other held the reins to his horse.

"I'm not going to jump off. I just—" She bit her tongue and fell silent. She was not going to explain her discomfort to him. Who knew what sick ideas he might get?

Draco said nothing, nor did he release his hold on her. The rain was still pounding down on them, and she shivered slightly against the cold. If they didn't end up as drowned rats, she was sure that she would freeze. The rain was icy cold on her bare skin and, unlike Draco, she was not wearing a nice coat to cover herself. The problem with women's fashion was that no matter how cold the weather, one always had to wear a flimsy dress. Ginny was feeling particularly resentful towards that fact right now.

The manor finally came into sight, and Ginny had to restrain herself from cheering for joy. Draco reined in Ulysses, bringing them to a slow walk, and guided his horse into the stable. He slid off from the horse and then reached up to help Ginny down as well. She accepted his help reluctantly, placing her hands on his shoulders while he grasped her waist and helped her to the ground. Their eyes met – she still with her hands on his shoulders, and he still with his hands on her waist – and, for a moment (but which was only a second), she could only stare at him.

His hair was very tousled and damp from the storm, and his eyes seemed greyer than ever, standing out from his pale features in a way that they had never done before. She didn't know why his eyes seemed so different, but in that moment they drew her to him so powerfully that she could only gaze into those deep, dark, grey depths. His eyes no longer seemed to resemble the cold metal she had used to liken them to – they had become storms: storms that were so intense and powerful that they quite took her breath away.

An unfamiliar feeling stirred inside of her that was neither anger nor guilt, and Ginny realised with some horror that the strange feeling was attraction. Surely it could not be right, yet there was no other explanation. She was attracted to Draco Malfoy.

"Oh Merlin," Ginny muttered without thinking, pulling her hands away from him.

Draco released her waist and stared at her in some perplexity. "What?"

The fierce emotion that had been glittering in his eyes had faded now into bewilderment, but the damage had been done. Ginny could still see the lingering spark in his steely irises, which had caught her attention, and that, in turn, transformed his whole face into something so much more appealing. She sternly told her mind to stop being so ridiculous, for ridiculous it could only be. She had been around Draco plenty of times and had never found him particularly handsome before. Why, then, should it be any different now, especially after he had behaved so abominably towards her? She was supposed to be angry with him, not admiring him! It was strange and very disconcerting. She liked it much better when she didn't find him attractive.

"Nothing," she snapped. "Just leave me alone!"

Draco rolled his eyes and started walking out of the stable. "Fine. I wouldn't want to waste my time with you anyway."

Ginny glared at his retreating back. "Good, because _I_ wouldn't want to waste my time with you!"

He said nothing in reply and left the stable, leaving Ginny silently fuming and feeling more than a little silly. Still, she had managed to get the last say, so that was one comfort, however feeble.

Ginny left the stable and entered the manor, stomping all the way to her room. Walking into the bathroom, she turned on the bath and stripped off her wet clothes in shivering silence. Once the tub was full, she slipped into the bath and let out a deep sigh of content. Her thoughts soon fell back onto her predicament regarding Draco and her newfound realisation about his looks. She ran her fingers through her hair, a frown lingering on her lips.

"Stupid Draco," she muttered. "If only he were ugly. I wouldn't have to feel this way if he were ugly."

It was terribly inconsiderate of him to go and get handsome in mere seconds and upset her peace of mind. After all, how could she stay stubbornly angry with him when he was looking so attractive? Really, it was enough to make her quite hate him.

Then, she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be meeting Celia for lunch in just a few hours.

"Oh, could this day get any worse?" she moaned to herself.

**OOOO**

Ginny walked up to her godmother's house in silence. She was still brooding over everything that had happened that day, but she was glad that she had not run into Draco again. He had left shortly after their horse ride with Armand, though she did not know where they had gone.

"Ginny, dear, do stop dawdling."

Ginny looked up to see her mother and Narcissa watching her.

"Sorry," she muttered, hurrying to catch up with them.

She wasn't feeling particularly happy right now, for she was worried how Celia would react to her. She also had the double burden of knowing that eventually she would have to apologise to Draco for her behaviour – something she was not looking forward to.

Mrs Weasley knocked at the door and almost immediately Mitsy the house-elf opened it and was ushering them inside. Ginny barely paid attention to her surroundings as she was led to the parlour, but as soon as she had walked inside the room, a large amount of black lace suddenly blocked her view, and she found herself being squeezed in a tight hug.

"Oh, my dear girl, I'm so sorry!" Celia exclaimed tearfully, taking great heaving sobs.

Any fears Ginny might have had for her godmother instantly vanished, and with a small smile on her lips, she wrapped her arms around her godmother's voluminous frame.

"I'm sorry too, Celia," she apologised. "I should have listened to you."

Celia pulled herself away and stared at Ginny with tear-filled eyes. "I tried to warn you not to have anything to do with my son, but I know it was my fault for not telling you the truth. Oh, can you forgive me?"

Ginny nodded. "It doesn't matter now anyway," she said with a repressed sigh. "I'm getting married to Draco."

"So I've heard," Celia remarked with a tinkling laugh, completely oblivious to Ginny's unhappiness. "I'm very happy for you, my dear, and I hope you will be happy too. I always hoped you would go with him."

Ginny gave a half-hearted smile, but Celia had just spotted Mrs Weasley and let out another wail (though this one more joyous) and rushed forward.

"Molly!"

"Celia!"

The women hugged and started chatting excitedly to each other about weddings, children and Merlin knew what else (Ginny had lost interest in trying to listen). She looked up at Narcissa, who was standing next to her, and wondered why the blonde was not joining in the jubilee.

"Are you not going to talk to them?" Ginny asked in some surprise.

Narcissa shook her head with a slight smile. "I'm not really one for excited reunions."

Ginny didn't doubt it, but she did find it funny that the youngest of the three friends was also the most mature in her behaviour. Of course, all the Malfoys seemed to have trouble letting loose.

Mrs Weasley and Celia finally seemed to realise there were other people in the room, and soon Ginny was once more regretting coming to her godmother's home, as the discussion abruptly turned to her wedding. Dresses, cakes, guests, music – there was so much to discuss that Ginny started to feel more than a little overwhelmed by it all. It had seemed so far away before, but now the only thought running through her mind was that this was really going to happen. She was really going to get married to Draco Malfoy, and it was then she realised with a sickening lurch of her stomach that the wedding was in two days.

"Ginny, you're being awfully quiet," Mrs Weasley said with a frown, causing Celia and Narcissa to look at her.

"I just have a bit of a headache," Ginny lied, though with the way things were going, she didn't doubt that would soon become the truth.

"Poor thing," Celia cooed, giving a sympathetic pat to her shoulder. "It's probably just pre-wedding nerves. We've all had it, sweetie. Why, I remember before my wedding I was absolutely terrified. Of course, most of my nerves were directed towards what was going to happen after the wedding."

Mrs Weasley giggled, and Ginny could only blush. Narcissa didn't seem too impressed with this style of conversation and gave Celia a reproving look.

"I don't think Ginevra wants to hear about your honeymoon, Celia," the blonde said gently. "We all know what happens after the wedding, and let's just leave it at that."

Ginny was grateful for Narcissa's interruption, as the last thing she wanted to hear was her mother confessing some of her own honeymoon adventures. Ginny's relief didn't last very long, however, as the conversation soon swung back to how many tables should be set out for the guests.

She sighed, wishing it would all go away. But it would not go away. It would never go away, and in two days she would be married.

**OOOO**

Meanwhile, in a little pub in Knockturn Alley (which was still a favourite haunt for young purebloods), Draco Malfoy tossed down another glass of Firewhisky and stared blearily at the ugly table in front of him.

"I'm such an idiot," he moaned to himself.

Armand, who was seated opposite him, gave him a cheeky smile. "Anyone could have told you that."

Draco glared at him. "If you're going to be annoying, you can leave. I'm not in the mood."

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," Armand said with a laugh, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Sheesh, you don't need to get so touchy."

"How would you feel if you realised you were going to marry a shrew in two days?" Draco demanded. "A shrew you have to get pregnant before the end of the month. And, to top it all off, this shrew would probably rather rip you to shreds before she even allowed you to lay a finger on her."

Armand's eyes danced mischievously. "I thought you liked your shrew."

Draco rolled his eyes and sipped his drink. "I don't. She's completely mental, and I have no idea how I'm ever going to get her pregnant." He glared at the dark liquid in his glass. "It's bad enough having no idea what I'm supposed to do without adding Ginevra Weasley to the equation."

"How can you not know what to do?" Armand said with a frown. "Any idiot knows what to do."

"I do know what to do," Draco defended, his cheeks going slightly pink. "I just – I mean, I have an idea, but what if it's more complicated than what you think? I mean, how do you really know what to do until you've done it?"

Armand shrugged. "I don't know. I've never been with a woman."

Draco sighed and took another sip of his drink. "Much use you are then."

"You could always ask him," Armand suggested, staring at the tall, dark-skinned wizard, who had just entered the pub. "He looks like he's slept with lots of women."

Draco looked up and groaned when his eyes fell on the familiar, handsome face. "What's Zabini doing here?"

"Why don't you ask him? He's coming this way."

Draco's eyes narrowed as the dark-haired wizard came closer to them. "What do you want, Zabini?"

Blaise raised one thin brow. "Come now, Draco, that's no way to talk to an old friend."

Draco just glared at him.

Armand watched this exchange in some amusement and decided to spice up the tension. "Draco's just angry because his fiancée won't let him touch her."

Draco glared at his cousin (who only grinned) and then turned to look at Blaise's smiling face. He knew what the other was thinking. Blaise had always been the 'ladies man', being both ridiculously handsome, as well as having the charm to actually get the women. Draco, though good-looking in his own way, had no charm. Even when he tried to have charm, it still didn't come off as polished as Zabini's smooth-tongued words, which could charm the clothes off any witch.

Of course, Draco had not really been interested in charming clothes off witches before tonight, but now he was feeling more than a little irritated that he did not have that skill. It would make bedding Ginny Weasley a whole lot easier if he could; though, he thought darkly to himself, she would still probably resist him even then.

"My poor Draco," Blaise said in a patronising voice, his slanted eyes gleaming with wicked delight. "I never thought you would not be able to control your women."

Draco grunted rather ineloquently and took a much longer gulp of his drink. "You don't know Weasley," he muttered bitterly. "She's a complete nut case."

Blaise laughed. "Nut case or not, I bet I could still get her to purr for me. You just don't know how to deal with women. You never have."

Draco flushed and glared at Blaise. It was true that he had never been spectacular with women. He had only been with Pansy, and they had never even come close to having sex. Of course, once he had entered into society, his rank and wealth made up for his lack of seduction skills, but even then Draco had paid no attention to the women who had flocked to him, and he certainly had not taken mistresses like some of his friends had. His mother had taught him better than that. Now, however, he thought he could have done with the experience.

"Shut up, Zabini, or I'll throw this drink at you," Draco grumbled crossly, feeling rather put out that everyone was picking on him.

Blaise gave an inelegant snort. "Fine behaviour from a Malfoy. What would your mother say?"

"What do you want?" Draco demanded exasperatedly, now turning his full attention to the other man. "Can't you see I am trying to get drunk? You're ruining my whole mood."

"I'd say you already are drunk," Armand observed, eyeing the collection of empty glasses in front of Draco with interest. "And your mood is always grumpy, so what difference does it make?"

Draco stared down at the cups in front of him. He blinked a few times and then sighed. "Well, I'm not drunk enough."

Blaise laughed again. "Clearly not, but if you think that getting drunk will suddenly give you the skills to seduce a woman, you're wrong."

Draco just grabbed another drink and downed the whole lot. "I don't care. Right now, I don't want to think about that damned honeymoon at all."

It was bad enough knowing he had to get married to her in two days, but that he had to somehow sleep with her as well? He just wanted to forget it all, for after that little episode today, he was feeling just as resentful with her as she was with him. The only problem was that he knew a child had to be born. The whole point of his getting married was to get a girl pregnant.

"Tell me, Draco," Blaise began with a frown, "why exactly are you so against this honeymoon?"

Draco flushed and stared down at his cup. Blaise, an intelligent man, quickly put two-and-two together.

"I see," he said with a grin. "You're a virgin."

"There's no need to broadcast it to the whole pub," Draco muttered bitterly.

"No wonder Pansy dumped you," Blaise remarked with a laugh. "She's hornier than a cat in heat."

Draco scrunched up his face in distaste. "You're so crude," he complained, and tossed down another glass of Firewhisky.

"I'm just stating a fact," Blaise said simply. "Just as I'm stating a fact when I say that you are the sorriest case for a man I have ever met."

"And I'm stating a fact when I say you're an idiot," Draco retorted dryly.

Armand sniggered, but Blaise seemed unperturbed and only gave an annoying smile at Draco.

"Idiot or not, at least I'm not afraid of having sex."

"I'm not afraid of having sex!" Draco defended, his cheeks darkening to an embarrassing pink.

A few people around the pub looked at them, including a woman with very fake yellow hair and large breasts. She seemed to be a barmaid. How clichéd.

Blaise chuckled. "Is that so? Why are you so nervous about your honeymoon, then?"

Armand looked at Draco curiously, as if waiting for an answer. Draco felt like screaming at the both of them. It was absolutely none of their business how he felt about sex. He didn't want to be having this conversation at all, and he'd be damned if he said anything.

"I'm not answering that," he said stiffly.

Blaise and Armand exchanged speaking glances.

"You see," Blaise taunted. "You're afraid."

"I am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

Draco gripped his cup hard and tossed the fiery liquid at Blaise's face. Armand fell into a peal of laughter, almost falling off his chair.

Blaise picked up a napkin and wiped his face calmly. He then smiled at Draco. "Are too."

Draco stood up abruptly and stomped over to the yellow-haired, big-busted women.

"What's he doing?" Armand asked Blaise curiously.

Blaise grinned and watched as Draco started talking to the blonde. "I think he's going to try and have sex with that woman."

Armand's jaw dropped. "Wow. He must be drunker than I thought. She's not exactly a looker, is she?"

They both watched as the blonde woman smiled archly at Draco and wrapped her fingers around his arm. Draco then led her somewhat woozily up the stairs to where the rooms were kept and disappeared from view.

"Now this should be interesting," Blaise mused aloud, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Who knew drunk Malfoys could be so diverting?"

**OOOO**

Ginny stared at the clock on her mantelpiece. She was now back at Malfoy manor, in her bed, and feeling more than a little anxious that her fiancé had not come back home yet. She had finally made up her mind to apologise to Draco, but since he had vanished, she was unable to do so. The longer she had to wait the worse her agitation became, and now that it was past midnight, she was beginning to wonder if he was purposely avoiding her.

Suddenly a loud crash sounded in the hallway outside her room, causing Ginny to jump in surprise. She could hear muffled voices and someone groaning in what sounded like quite a lot of pain.

Curious, Ginny clambered out of her bed and opened her door as quietly as possible. She just managed to catch a glimpse of Blaise Zabini Disapparating before her eyes fell on two figures moving down the hallway. One of them was slumped over the other and groaning, while the other, whom she recognised as Armand, muttered something under his breath. Armand opened the door to Draco's room and then dragged the slumped figure inside, shutting the door behind him as quietly as he could.

Ginny stared at the closed door. It didn't take a genius to figure out who the other man was, and, feeling even more worried, she quickly ran over and entered the room.

"What happened?" she demanded upon entering. "Is he okay?"

Armand jumped in fright and quickly raced in front of her, blocking her view of Draco, who was now lying on the bed. "He's fine – just a little knocked up."

Ginny's face went white. "Who did it?"

"Well, he did. Couldn't take it any more, so he went and got himself smashed."

"What?" she squeaked, her stomach twisting horribly with guilt.

Was it possible that he had hurt himself because of her behaviour today? Had she really offended him so badly?

"Will he live?" she asked anxiously, trying to peep around Armand to get a better look at Draco.

"Of course he'll live. People can't die from hexing the house-elf. Well, actually, I think they can, but he won't."

Ginny frowned in confusion. "Wait, he hexed a house-elf? I thought you said that he had hurt himself?"

"Well, no one else did it to him, but he has hexed the house-elf. The idiot didn't know when to stop. We're just lucky he didn't go and drown himself, but there's no doubt he's definitely ruined himself with fire."

She blinked, not quite sure what to make of this speech. She wasn't sure if her fiancé had tried to kill himself with fire, smashed his own body about, or, oddly enough, hexed a house-elf.

Draco mumbled something incoherent, and Ginny quickly pushed Armand out of the way and raced over to his side. She took one look at his scrunched up face and dishevelled appearance and felt tears spring to her eyes.

"Oh, Draco, I'm so sorry," she wept bitterly, throwing herself onto his chest, and only vaguely wondering why he smelt so bad. "I didn't mean to offend you today. I know I was being an idiot, but please don't try kill yourself any more, or hex any house-elves, or whatever it is you were doing."

Draco just groaned again and tried to roll away from her.

Armand frowned. "Ah, Ginny?"

Ginny lifted her face to look up at him. "What?"

"Do you actually know what's wrong with him?"

She frowned and looked back down at Draco. He was lying flat on his back in a half-opened shirt (his coat seemed to have vanished), and his belt was unbuckled. His cheeks were flushed, and as he opened his eyes to stare blearily up at her, she could see the fogs of alcohol lingering in his grey irises.

Immediately her guilt-stricken look vanished, and she abruptly pulled away from him. "You're drunk!" she accused. "I can't believe that you went and got drunk!"

Draco just placed an arm over his eyes and ignored her. It was then that she noticed the collar of his shirt had smudged lipstick marks stuck to it, and she could also see the faint traces of bruises growing on his chest where love bites had been made.

"You were with another woman?" Ginny exclaimed, staring at her drunken fiancé in building rage. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I think I'm going to be sick," Draco muttered in a strangled voice, and promptly vomited on the bed.

Armand solemnly shook his head. "I don't think he's ever drunk this much alcohol before. We didn't even realise how drunk he was until he tried to go with that woman. He sounded perfectly fine, not slurring his words or anything, but maybe he can hold his liquor better than we thought. Still, he seems to be all to pieces now."

Draco just groaned again and held his head in his hands, apparently not caring that he was covered in his own vomit. It was a pitiful sight, and even though Ginny thought he deserved everything he got, she couldn't ignore her conscience.

She sighed in exasperation. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered, and then walked over to Draco. "Come on—" she took his arm and started helping him to his feet "—you can't sleep in your own sick."

He blinked, stared at her hazily for a moment, and then vomited again – this time on her. Ginny sighed much more grumpily this time.

"Charming," she commented dryly, wiping the sick off her face. "Well, I guess I don't need to worry about getting vomit on me now." Her eyes fell on Armand, who was sniggering at the both of them. "Don't think you can just sit there laughing. Come here; you're going to help me clean him up."

Armand sighed but listened to her all the same. Between the two of him, they managed to clean Draco up, give him fresh sheets, and cast a quick Sobering Charm on him that would at least allow him to go to sleep without being sick everywhere. However, it would not help him escape the hangover the next day.

Ginny laid Draco back down on his bed and pulled the covers up over him. His hazy grey eyes met hers for a moment before they slid shut from the effects of the spell. In a few more seconds, he was fast asleep.

"He's going to really hate himself tomorrow," Armand said with a gleeful smile, watching his cousin's sleeping face.

"Good," Ginny said bluntly. "I hope he has the worst hangover imaginable."

He deserved it for going with another woman. She would never forgive him for that. Getting drunk, she could handle – though she was still irritated by that – but him going with a woman was the worst possible thing she could think of.

Armand smiled slightly, but said nothing in reply.

Ginny huffed. "Well, I'm going to bed."

"Alright. Goodnight, Ginny."

"Goodnight," Ginny muttered, and then left the room, thinking bitterly that this had turned out to be one of the worst days ever.

**Notes: **

The scene where Ginny is confused by Armand's explanation about what happened to Draco is somewhat inspired by a scene in Georgette Heyer's _Arabella_, in which the heroine wonders whether her brother is dead or 'shot a cat' after hearing some very rambled explanations by his friend, mixed with a lot of slang.

'Hexed a house-elf' is my version of the Regency slang phrase 'shot the cat', which basically means a person (in this case Draco) has got himself very drunk.


	14. Confrontations and Confessions

**Confrontations and Confessions**

Draco did not make an appearance at breakfast the next day, which was really not that surprising considering his situation. Ginny smiled, knowing that he would be feeling terrible from his drunken stint, and hoped rather sadistically that his suffering lasted for a few more hours yet. The best thing about it was that she now had an excuse not to apologise to him. After all, cheating on her was far worse than anything she had done. Besides, she figured that her decision to help him last night – even when he had not deserved it – was compensation enough. Getting vomited on had not exactly been a thrilling experience, and she was not eager to repeat the process.

Her smile quickly faded as she thought about him being with another woman. She could see in her mind the blossoming of love bites on his pale skin and felt rather sick at the thought that some woman's lips had tainted him in such a way. No doubt those woman's fingers had trailed seductively along his chest, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal the smooth skin that lay underneath for all her dirty pleasure. Ginny did not want to know what they had done together, but she seriously hoped that he had not slept with the whore. Judging by his unbuckled pants, it seemed likely that he had; if not, the woman, whoever she was, had certainly had a field day in ravaging Draco's toned body with her nasty paws.

Ginny knew that he was toned, for she had ample view last night to note that Draco Malfoy, whatever his faults, had a body that was perfectly in proportion for his more slender frame. He was no lightweight, make no mistake of that, but he was certainly no Vincent Crabbe either – who seemed more like a boulder walking on sticks. Of course, some people would disagree on the matter (just as some found it hard to view Draco's angular features as handsome), but for Ginny, he was proving to be just what she admired in a man. This was strange, considering he was so different to Julian, but there was no getting around the fact that she was very much beginning to appreciate Draco's physical appearance. She tried hard not to reflect on this though, as she was already disconcerted by the discovery that she found Draco's face attractive, and the last thing she wanted was to have to admit that she found his body appealing as well. That would just take her to a whole new level of awkwardness and frustration. It really was so ridiculously unfair that Draco was not ugly.

Inwardly berating herself for once more allowing her thoughts to drift into dangerous territories involving her fiancé's appearance, Ginny forced herself to focus on more important matters. Of course, that only led her to once again brood over Draco's betrayal – something she had been doing for most of the night and, indeed, most of the morning. There was just no escaping him, it seemed. But, really, who could blame her for being slightly obsessive over what had happened? It was only natural that she should feel upset that her fiancé had cheated on her, even if said fiancé didn't love her and she didn't love him. But that was not the point; the point was that he had hurt her pride by going with another woman, and fiancés were not supposed to do that.

Ginny had to admit that she was genuinely surprised by his actions. She had not really thought of him as a womaniser, so she had never dreamed that he might go with someone other than herself. Now she couldn't stop thinking about it, and that in turn left her feeling very bitter and more than a little insecure.

Who was this woman he had gone to? Had she ever met this woman before? Was this woman perhaps more beautiful than herself? Is that why he had gone to her, or was it something else? These were the questions that ran through Ginny's head over and over with fanatical fervour. Even worse was the thought that he might continue to go with other women once they were married. Ginny couldn't bear the thought that she might be sharing her husband with a bunch of whores, even if she and Draco's relationship was rather strange to say the least. Her mind tried to reason with her, telling her that it was unfair of her to expect him to be faithful when there was no love between them, but Ginny couldn't accept such an excuse. The very thought of Draco going with another woman made her feel physically ill, not to mention the burning rage that would suddenly boil in her blood whenever she thought of the love bites that marred his otherwise flawless skin. It was unacceptable, and she refused to let him escape unscathed from her wrath.

"Where is my son?" Narcissa suddenly demanded, staring at Draco's vacant seat.

Ginny blinked and glanced up at Draco's mother. Everyone else around the table (except Armand) had paused in their eating, seeming to have just realised that Draco was indeed missing.

"He's not feeling well," Armand answered smoothly, giving Ginny a pointed glance not to say anything.

Ginny was almost tempted to ignore Armand's warning and reveal that Draco was shut in his room with a hangover, but just like she had not been able to leave Draco to sleep in a pool of his own sick, so could she not bring herself to be so cruel now. She already knew enough about Narcissa to know that Draco would be receiving more than an earful if that formidable woman ever found out about his reckless behaviour, and as much as he would deserve it, it was not in Ginny's nature to be so heartless.

"Well, he had better start feeling well," came the unsympathetic reply. "He's getting married in a day, and I will not have him being sick."

Ginny's stomach gave a rather violent twist. She had completely forgot that the wedding was so soon in all her frustration with Draco.

"What? Is everything ready then?" Ginny asked.

Surely they could not have planned everything so soon. The engagement had only been announced four days ago, but then, knowing Narcissa, she had probably had everything planned for quite a while longer than that.

Narcissa nodded. "I thought it best we hold a small wedding, considering the circumstances, so there was not much to do. The invitations have been sent out for the guests, the orchestra has been hired, the house elves will be doing the catering, and so the only thing left is to find you a wedding dress. I've already booked an appointment with my dressmaker for this afternoon, and Molly and I agree that . . ."

Ginny stopped listening. She had suddenly lost her appetite and could only stare at Narcissa in silent horror. This was all happening too soon. She just couldn't believe that in one day from now she would no longer be Ginny Weasley. She was going to become a Malfoy, and though she had known this fact for quite a few days now, it still had not hit her until that moment. Her very identity was going to be changed. Worst still was the knowledge that she was losing that identity to a man who often lost his temper with her, got mindlessly drunk, and slept with other women behind her back.

Her hands clenched into fists on her lap. She could not accept that this was going to be her lot in life. There was no escape from this marriage, but she would not let Draco use her in such a way. She deserved more respect than that.

Ginny abruptly stood up from her chair. She would go confront him herself if she had to, for she knew that she would never be able to relax until she knew the truth.

"Where are you going?" Narcissa asked, eyebrows rising slightly.

Ginny suddenly realised where she was and what she was doing. Everybody was staring at her curiously (except Alexia, who just scowled). Ginny began to feel her cheeks heat as she stood there. For obvious reasons, she could not explain to them why she was leaving, but then she realised that as Draco's betrothed, it would not be too out of the ordinary for her to want to go visit her 'sick' fiancé.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Malfoy, I'm just so worried about Draco," Ginny lied fluently, feeling more than a little proud that she managed not to throw up at the words spilling out of her mouth. "I can't sit here and eat when I know he's unwell. Please, may I not go to him?"

Mrs Weasley placed a hand over her heart, a misty smile lingering in her eyes. "Such devotion. It quite touches me!"

Narcissa did not seem as touched. Her keen blue eyes scanned Ginny's face for a moment, as if trying to decipher some sort of hidden message behind her future daughter-in-law's words. Ginny swallowed uncomfortably, hoping that her face did not show her anxiety. It would be rather embarrassing to be caught lying.

"Very well," Narcissa said finally, relaxing her hard gaze, "but in future you should excuse yourself before leaving the table."

Ginny nodded and muttered an apology before quickly leaving the room, just glad to have escaped any more questions. She was not halfway up the stairs when Armand's voice called her back.

"Ginny, wait!"

Mentally sighing, Ginny stopped in her tracks and turned to look at Armand. She was not in the mood for him right now. As much as she liked Armand, she had come to feel rather irritated with the smiling young man. No doubt he could have stopped her fiancé from acting like a fool last night, and she knew that he, in all his mischief, would have only encouraged Draco to get into trouble. Changeling or not, Armand still was a Malfoy, and it was clear that he had the same dangerous thirst for chaos.

"What?" she snapped, placing a hand on her hip in an uncanny impersonation of her mother.

He ran up the rest of the steps and stopped in front of her. "I don't think you should go see Draco right now. He was in a sorry state when I checked on him this morning, and his temper is not exactly the sweetest. You'd best wait until he's ready to come down himself."

"I don't care if he's dying!" Ginny exclaimed impatiently. "He's brought this all on himself, and I refuse to tiptoe around him just because he's acted like a drama queen and got himself drunk. He's the one who cheated on me, if you don't remember, and so he can have the damn decency to talk to me now."

Armand shook his head in earnest. "I wouldn't if I were you. You don't understand the half of it, and he'll kill _me_ if he knew I let you go up there."

Ginny smiled sweetly at him, a sure danger sign that she was getting more than a little irritated. "You're right, Armand, I don't understand the half of it, and that's what I plan to find out. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to talk to my fiancé, and if you even _think_ to try and stop me, I will make sure you understand what it means to be hit by _my_ Bat-Bogey Hex."

With that terrifying promise, she turned around and stomped up the stairs in a determined way, leaving no doubt that her darling fiancé was about to be on the receiving end of what could possibly be the biggest rant of his life. Armand, who could only watch her progress in awe, finally realised what people meant when they said that Ginny Weasley was a handful. One would have to be insane to want to tame that spitfire, but – he thought with a smile – it just was possible that Draco might be the one to do it. That is, if he survived her wrath today . . .

**OOOO**

Draco lay in the semi-darkness of his room, one arm draped over his eyes to shield out any rays of sunlight that had forced its way through the curtains, and the other resting on his stomach, which was still churning rather unpleasantly. Thankfully, he had only spewed up once this morning, but the combination of his swimming head and the awful feeling twisting inside him was enough to make him feel very worried that he might do it again.

His morning had not been pleasant. Armand, in all his sunny glory, had come into the room earlier that day to see how he was feeling, which had only succeeded in making Draco wince and tell his damned cousin to— well, let's just say that Narcissa would not have been pleased with the language that had come out of her darling son's mouth. Armand, thankfully, complied with Draco's foul-mouthed wishes and speedily left the room, accompanied most thoughtfully by two thrown pillows. Draco had then been allowed to brood in silence, completely depressed by his own actions, and feeling more than a little ill. He was very ready to kill himself and anyone who dared enter his room again.

Actually trying to remember what had happened last night was proving quite the task. Bits and pieces of memory flittered past his hazy mind, conjuring a picture that was rather unsettling to a normally dignified and morally conscience man. Yes, despite Draco's popular reputation, he was far from sleeping with every woman that came across his path, nor did he relish in drinking himself under the table. He was strict in his behaviour and very adamant in upholding the Malfoy honour by not making a fool of himself. However, from what he could tell by his fragmented recollections, he had done just that.

Draco vaguely recalled talking to Blaise and Armand in the pub, as well as throwing a glass of Firewhisky at Blaise's face (which caused a little smile to pass over his lips), but much more disconcerting was the rather alarming image of a voluptuous blonde. Since he had discovered by this time his attire (or, rather, lack of), he realised that something must have happened. There was also the disgusting discovery that he had love bites on his chest, which was something he did not cherish. He did not have the 'beer goggles' to distort his mind now, and he knew well enough that the woman he had so recklessly gone to the upper rooms with had been no looker. It was enough to make him shudder, and shudder he did.

Determined to find out what had happened with the tacky blonde, Draco forced his mind into overdrive and tried to dredge up every cringe-worthy memory that could be traced back to the dingy room in the pub. By the end of it, he was feeling even more physically ill than he had to begin with. It also posed the question of what had happened after he had left the room. Everything was so fuzzy that he could barely remember a thing, yet, strangely enough, the only thing he could really pinpoint was a girl throwing herself on his chest and apologising for something. He almost thought it was Ginny, but that wasn't possible. Why would Ginny have been in his room? Better yet, why would she have been throwing herself on top of him and apologising? It just didn't make sense.

It was in that moment that Ginny herself burst through the door. Her chestnut eyes narrowed as they fell on him, and her lips settled into a firm line. She looked magnificent, as a female Weasley only could in high temper. A crown of red ringlets adorned her head, shaping her face to advantage, and her eyes were sparkling brilliantly in her rage. Her body was encased in a floor-length dress of deep, blood velvet that curved down tastefully at her breasts and nipped in at the waist before spanning out to the floor, giving the illusion that she was much curvier than she was. It was a dress that Celia had picked and on Ginny it truly was a sight to behold. She looked beautiful, and the sight of her quite took Draco's breath away (hangover or not). Perhaps that was why he didn't kill her on sight. He was, understandably, too shocked by both her appearance and her presence to do much else.

"Ginny," Draco managed to say, not quite covering his surprise.

This was not exactly how he wished to greet his fiancée. He was, after all, still lying in the bed, looking very pitiful and pained with no shirt on and the sheets all twisted around his waist. His hair was mussed and tangled, and his eyes were heavy and had dark rings circling them. His cheeks had lost the flush of alcohol and now were simply deathly pale, though perhaps that had more to do with how horribly ill he felt. In any case, he looked pathetic, and he felt it too.

Ginny said nothing to his pitiful exclamation, simply slamming the door shut behind her (causing Draco to wince), and then marched over to the bed, using her wand to open the curtains as she did so. Sunlight poured into the room, making Draco's pale face stand out even more against the rich green of his pillows. He looked very ill indeed. This caused not a spark of sympathy in Ginny, who merely stopped in front of him, nostrils flaring from her quickened breathing, and looked just about ready to explode from all the frustration pent up inside her.

"Well?" she demanded shrilly (causing Draco to wince even more). "What have you got to say for yourself?"

He placed a hand over his eyes to shield out the light, as well as ease the pain her voice had inflicted on his head. "Merlin, Weasley, do you have to be so bloody loud?" he snapped, fast losing his temper.

She made a strangled noise in her throat that sounded halfway between a scream and sob. "Is that all you can say?" she cried. "That I'm being loud? Damn it, Draco, do you have any idea how angry I am with you right now? Do you?"

Draco removed his arm and stared at her in some exasperation. "Oh no, Weasley, it's clear by the way you stormed through my door without even knocking and started screeching at me like a banshee that you're feeling just swell towards me."

For a moment Ginny really did look like she was going to explode, but then she let out a furious breath and glared at him. "_Why_ do you have to be so annoying?" she demanded, practically tearing her hair out in her frustration. "Here I am trying to have a serious conversation with you, and _you _just sit there making stupid, sarcastic remarks!"

"A serious conversation?" he repeated scornfully. "You just started shouting at me. Honestly, Weasley, how do you expect me to react to you barging in here and demanding answers of me like you're my mother?"

"I have every right to know what happened! I'm your fiancée!" Ginny retorted, her face developing some rather interesting red splotches.

Draco placed his arm back over his eyes, letting out a tired sigh as he did so. "Just go away, Weasley. I don't want to talk about it."

No!" Ginny shouted, and even stamped her foot. "I am _not_ going to go away, and you're going to damn well tell me the truth about what happened last night! I know you went and got drunk, and I know that you were with another woman! I _saw_ the marks!"

"Well, you seem to already know everything," he muttered dryly, still not taking his arm away from his face. "What do you expect me to tell you?"

Ginny shook her head, her eyes going oddly bright as she tried desperately to hold back tears. She had promised herself that she would not cry, but it was so hard with Draco acting so unapologetic and heartless. Did he not care at all that she might have been hurt by his actions?

"I just want to know the truth," she replied in a strained voice, staring at his unresponsive form. "Did you or did you not have sex with that woman?"

Draco said nothing. Perhaps he was hoping that she would disappear if he just stayed silent, but Ginny was not so easily put off. Picking up one of the pillows that had been thrown at Armand earlier that morning, she threw it hard at Draco and hit him in the face with a loud thump, much to her satisfaction. He lifted his arm away and stared at her in some annoyance and surprise.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, glaring irritably at her.

"What is wrong with me?" she repeated almost hysterically. "Do you have any idea what it feels like knowing that your fiancé was with another woman two days before your wedding? _Do you_?"

"Oh, come off it," he exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "You never wanted to marry me anyway. How can you possibly care if I go with another woman or not? You don't love me, and I sure as hell don't love you."

"It's not about love!" Ginny retorted. "It's about respect, and you—" she picked up the other pillow and threw it at him "—are not respecting me when you go with other women."

"Would you stop throwing bloody pillows at me!" Draco snapped, looking very much like he'd like to throw a pillow back at her. It seemed to take all his self-control to restrain himself, but his eyes continued to smoulder dangerously.

"I can do what I damn well like!" Ginny replied heatedly, not even caring if she was testing his patience. "I'm sick and tired of you treating me like some useless possession you snagged for your convenience! I'm your fiancée, Draco, and whether you love me or not, you're going to damn well treat me as one! You're the one who says I show no respect to you, but this—this is worse than anything _I_ have done. I didn't even think you could sink this low, but apparently I was wrong. I just can't _believe_ you went with a woman _two days_ before our wedding!"

Draco sighed and stared at her calmly. "Weasley."

Ginny ignored him. Her towering rage of passion was so high that she wasn't even paying attention to him now. She had started pacing up and down, her eyes burning with frustrated tears as she muttered furiously, "I've put up with so much for this stupid wedding, and, yes, I admit that I've acted like an idiot sometimes, but did that really give you an excuse to treat me with such a lack of respect?"

"_Weasley_!" Draco tried again, this time louder, and considerably more exasperated.

"I know that you don't love me," she continued, still pacing up and down, "but you were the one who chose me as your fiancée! You put yourself in this situation! I never asked for this, and I never wanted it! It's your fault, so the least you can do is tell me whether our marriage is always going to involve these other women, because I'm telling you now that I can't take this, Draco! I just can't, and I won't! It hurts so much, and I don't even know why, but it does, and I can't—"

"_Merlin_, woman, would you just _shut up_!" Draco bellowed, finally reaching his limit.

Ginny glared at him. "How dare you talk to me li—"

"I NEVER SLEPT WITH HER!"

"W-what?" she stammered, not quite sure that she had heard him properly, though he had yelled it loud enough.

Draco's eyes narrowed and he folded his arms crossly over his chest. "_I. Never. Slept. With. Her_."

"Oh," was all Ginny managed to say, feeling more than a little stupid and embarrassed. After all her ranting and raving, he hadn't even had sex with the woman. Still, he had gone and got drunk, and there were those marks on his chest. Maybe he was just lying?

"How can I believe you?" she demanded, placing her hands on her hips. "You could just be lying. You _do_ have those marks on your chest, and I know that you were drunk last night because I was the one who helped you to bed."

He sighed, seeming to have expected something like this. It was clear by his resigned expression that he really did not wish to confess anything more to her, but it was either tell the truth or put up with her ranting and raving. Peace from her screeching won out.

"Yes," he explained tiredly, "I did get drunk because I was angry, and yes, I did _try_ to go with that woman, but I didn't sleep with her. I just—I just couldn't." His eyes dropped to his lap, his cheeks tingeing with pink. "I never went with her because I actually wanted to, I just—I mean, I was angry, and the alcohol made me a little reckless, but I—"

He fell silent, not quite sure what else to say without embarrassing himself further. How could he explain to Ginny – his fiancée – that he had only gone with that woman because Blaise had been taunting him about being afraid of sex? He would never be able to live with the shame, and he would much prefer to keep his status of being a virgin to himself.

"You really didn't sleep with that woman?" Ginny asked, not quite daring to believe her ears.

Draco looked up from his hands and met her hopeful gaze. He nodded.

"Thank Merlin!" Ginny exclaimed, and threw herself at his chest. He had not betrayed her; he had not gone with that woman, and though in that moment she had no idea why this knowledge should make her so happy, she would never forget just how beautiful his confession had sounded to her aching heart.

Draco, on the other hand, was stunned to say the least by Ginny's sudden display of affection. He had not been expecting it at all, considering the circumstances, and even now was still trying to regain his breath from the impact of her body hurtling against his. He also felt rather uncomfortable with her lying practically on top of him, and it didn't help that she seemed to be nuzzling her face into his chest, tickling his chin with her red curls.

His heart started beating faster, the quickening beat becoming louder and louder until his whole body seemed to be pounding with the frenzied rhythm. He was sure Ginny must feel it, must hear it, but she did not move from her position, and he could tell that she was crying by the wet trails beginning to dampen his skin where her face lay.

It was awkward and uncomfortable, and he still felt terribly ill from his hangover. However, despite all his reservations – despite the strangeness of having her hug him – Draco felt the prickling of that small, special warmth inside him again. There was something sweet about the way she clung to him, something – dare he think it – heart-warming. Malfoys were not supposed to feel like this, especially towards shrewish Weasleys, but he seemed to have lost all control of that infernal organ beating so insistently in his chest. It almost seemed like it was trying to tell him something, but Draco had never been very good at reading his own emotions, and the thumping and the warm feelings of his heart could not quite pierce the veil of stubbornness that he had shrouded himself with.

The moment was passing beyond his grasp, the awkwardness increasing, and Draco suddenly remembered that he did not like to be hugged.

"Uh, Ginny," he muttered, trying to curb the sudden urge to push her off him. "I'm glad you've forgiven me and all, but, uh, can you get off me?"

Ginny sniffed and raised her head from his chest, though she was still quite comfortably leaning against him with her arms wrapped tight around him. "I'm sorry," she replied with a watery smile. "I'm just so relieved."

He barely managed not to smile in return at her honesty and wondered if she even realised how open she was being with him right now. But then, when he thought about it, Ginny never really had been one to hide her emotions. She truly did wear her heart on her sleeve, which was one of the things he found most intriguing about her. He did have to wonder why she was so happy, though. Surely his going with another woman could not be _that_ upsetting to her?

Draco stared at her curiously. "Would you really have been that upset if I had actually gone with that woman?"

"It's only natural to be upset over something like that," Ginny replied with a shrug. "How would _you_ feel if I went and had sex with another man two days before our wedding?"

Even at the mere suggestion of her being with another man, Draco felt a sudden rush of anger and protectiveness grow inside him. Like a dog protecting its bone, Draco knew that he would snarl at anyone who dared to even come in breathing distance of Ginny. He didn't express any of this, though. Instead, he simply raised his eyebrow at her, remarking rather dryly, "You do realise that you're still sitting on me."

Ginny's face suddenly burned bright red, much to Draco's satisfaction. So she should feel embarrassed for leaping on him like that and hugging him. Didn't she understand that Malfoys did not like to be hugged? Especially grumpy Malfoys who had hangovers. It didn't matter if it had been oddly nice having her leaning against him, because it wasn't nice, damn it, and he was much happier having her at a safe distance. Who knew what might happen otherwise? Hugs could be contagious for all he knew, and then he might – Merlin forbid it – end up wrapping his arms around her too.

Draco's eyebrow rose even higher. She still had not moved.

"Right," Ginny said hurriedly, and scrambled off him, careful not to touch him any more than she needed to.

There was an awkward pause as they stared at each other, neither knowing what to say.

"Um, right, well that was all I wanted to know, so I'll just go now," Ginny mumbled quietly, not quite meeting his gaze. "You probably want to be alone anyway."

She turned to leave, but a firm grasp on her wrist made her stop. Surprised, she turned and met Draco's steely grey eyes, her own widening in a silent question. Draco seemed to struggle with himself for a moment and then, finally, he seemed to find the words to express his thoughts, as simple and profound as they were.

"Thank you."

Ginny blinked as he released her wrist. "For what?" she asked with a frown, wondering why he would thank her. She hadn't done anything at all, unless one counted crushing his ribs in a bone-crunching hug.

He shrugged. "For believing me and all."

Well, that was eloquent.

A small smile tugged at Ginny's lips. "It's okay. It was pretty obvious you were telling the truth when you started blushing."

Draco looked horrified at the thought. "I did not blush!" he exclaimed, seeming to be in great distress that his cheeks could possibly have betrayed him in such a way.

Ginny's smile grew until it become positively impish. "You keep telling yourself that, but I did see you blush."

Two pink spots blossomed on Draco's cheeks, causing Ginny to let out a triumphant giggle. "And there you go again! Really, Draco, you're going to have to accept that you can blush just as much as everyone else."

Draco grumbled something under his breath and then glared at her. "I wouldn't laugh if I were you. Have you ever seen what _you_ look like when you blush?"

"Why you little—"

Ginny went to hit him in retaliation, but Draco managed to shift away before she could. He was laughing now, and while she tried to appear angry, her lips were quivering noticeably with repressed giggles. Still, she was not going to let him off that easily. No one mocked her and remained unscathed.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy," she promised darkly. "Just you wait. I'll find your weak spot, and then you'll never mock my blushing again."

He looked up at her, the laughter not quite faded from his grey eyes. "I'm petrified, really."

Ginny gave a rueful grin. "So you should be."

Draco just smiled and then relaxed back against the bed. Oddly enough, his hangover seemed to not be so bad right now. Of course, his head still felt like it weighed hundreds of tonnes, and his stomach still felt like it was trying to wriggle out of his body, but being able to actually talk and laugh was progress at least. Maybe there was some magic in laughter after all – even if it did make him wince sometimes.

Ginny gave him a sideways look. "So . . . who was the woman?" she asked, still having a morbid fascination to find out who the woman actually was that he had tried to have sex with. "Do I know her?"

Instantly, his good humour vanished. "Go away, Weasley," he muttered, giving her a hard glare.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," Ginny said with a laugh, putting her hands up in surrender. "I was just asking. Sheesh, you _are_ touchy in the mornings, aren't you?"

"I'd like to see how anyone can be cheery with a hangover," Draco grumbled.

Ginny placed a finger to her chin, her eyes misting over with thought. "I could make you a proper sobering draught. I cast a charm on you last night, but that was really only to stop you from vomiting everywhere. The proper draught should cure your hangover symptoms completely."

Draco looked like Christmas had come early. With miraculous speed for someone who had a hangover, he grabbed her hands and stared hopefully into her eyes. "Will you do that?" he asked, not quite managing to hide his desperation. It was clear that he was not cherishing his hangover at all.

A slow, wicked smile curved her lips. "Gee, I don't know. Do you deserve it?"

Throwing pride to the winds, he gripped her hands tighter. "Weasley, if you make me this sobering draught, I swear I will—I will . . . well, I don't know what I'll do, but I'll do something for you."

Never did Ginny think she'd ever see Draco Malfoy begging her for something, let alone promising that he would do something in return. No doubt if she were a Slytherin, she would take full advantage of the situation, but there was only one thing Ginny wanted from him.

"Just promise me you won't go and get drunk like that again," she said seriously. "You scared me, Draco. I don't want to go through that again."

He looked a little surprised by her words, but he nodded his head all the same. "Okay."

Ginny smiled and pulled her hands away from his. "Alright then, it's a deal. I'll go make the sobering draught now."

Draco nodded eagerly and ushered her out of the room, impatient to get his potion. "Don't take too long," he called to her retreating back.

"I won't," Ginny replied with a laugh, and then vanished around the bend in the hallway.

Draco sighed and closed the door to his room. He walked back to the bed and collapsed on top of the blankets, body sprawled out spread-eagle. He frowned up at the intricately designed ceiling above him, his eyes following the golden design with no particular interest. His conversation with Ginny had gone better than he had expected considering the circumstances, but he was still uncomfortable about having to open up to her like that. He did not like to share his personal feelings with anyone except his horse and Armand.

"I suppose she's not so bad, though," he mused to himself.

It cost him a great deal to admit as much, but he did have to concede that when she wasn't acting like a damned shrew, she was tolerable enough. After all, there had to have been something that he liked about her to make him actually want to marry her, and it was true that once she had got past her banshee phase, he had found himself warming up to her more. They still had teased each other, which was not unexpected, but Draco considered his teasing much more good-humoured than what his previous taunting towards her had been – as was hers to him.

Still, he knew he was lucky that she had forgiven him so easily. He certainly didn't deserve it, no matter how much he regretted last night's drunken stint, and her offer to make him a sobering draught certainly did place her high in his good books.

"As long as she doesn't start hugging me again," he muttered darkly to himself. "I can handle anything but that."

That had been as awkward as it had been horrifying. He did not like to be hugged, and he'd be damned if he'd let her wrap her scrawny, freckly arms around him in such an affectionate way again. It was too cosy and too—too cute! No man wanted to be caught in such an act, and—

"Why am I still thinking about that damned hug?" Draco demanded of the silent walls.

The walls had no reply, but Draco didn't seem to mind their silence. He was quite content brooding over the matter himself, trying his best _not_ to think of the hug, and _not_ to think of the girl who had given it to him. Unfortunately for Draco, he failed spectacularly at both.

**OOOOO**

Ginny, meanwhile, was in the kitchens terrorising the house-elf as she made Draco's sobering draught. She was not sure where else she would be able to find a big enough pot to make the potion, or the ingredients for that matter, and she knew that it was impossible to ask Narcissa. Luckily, she had found all the ingredients she needed in the kitchen cupboards, and there had been a pot just the right size for brewing the sobering draught. The elf, however, was not as happy.

"Miss, you must stop. Miss—" the elf tugged at the skirts of her dress. "Dinky will get in trouble if Dinky lets you use the kitchen."

"Oh, hush!" Ginny admonished, turning a sharp eye at the elf and holding the wooden spoon in her hand in an unintentionally menacing way. "It's not doing anyone any harm, and I'll have you know that I am under strict orders from my fiancé to make this. Now go away if you're going to fret; you're making me lose my concentration."

Indeed, she could barely concentrate with the elf tugging at her dress and giving little moans of horror. She knew that elves were dedicated to their jobs, but this little chef was proving to be quite the nuisance. Potion making was a very delicate business, and while Ginny had always excelled at the art, she knew that one had to be completely focussed or nasty side effects could happen. It was imperative that she make no mistakes, for she did not want Draco to end up poisoned.

Footsteps thumped down the kitchen stairs as someone came closer to the cooking area. Ginny froze, turning her face anxiously towards the doorway, hoping that it was not Narcissa, but it was only Armand.

"Hello, what are you doing in here?" Armand asked cheerily, picking up an apple from the basket on the bench. He crunched into it loudly and grinned at the elf, who was now holding its hands up to its appalled face.

"You is not supposed to be in here, young master," the elf scolded. "Mistress told Dinky to not allow you to eat all the kitchen larder."

"But I'm famished! You wouldn't want me to starve now, would you, Dinky?"

Dinky apparently did. Unlike the chefs at Hogwarts, this little house-elf was fiercely protective of its larder, and was very adamant in telling Armand that he was not allowed to eat anything until lunch.

Ignoring this exchange, Ginny continued brewing the potion with careful precision, pausing only to wipe the sweat off her brow from the rising steam. Armand seemed to remember her presence again and made his way towards her. He peered into the pot, gave a tentative sniff, and then pulled a face of utter revulsion.

"Merlin's pants, what is that?" he demanded, now holding his shirt up over his nose.

Ginny laughed and changed her stirring to counter-clockwise. "It's Draco's sobering draught. I know it smells terrible, but it'll do the trick."

Armand frowned, or at least Ginny thought he frowned. It was hard to tell when his mouth was covered.

"You're making him a sobering draught?" he asked doubtfully. "I thought you were angry with him."

She shrugged. "I suppose I could still be angry with him for trying to go with another woman, but he didn't sleep with her, and it seems like he never really wanted to anyway. I think he was just drunk, and I have it on good authority that he will never get drunk like that again."

Armand chuckled. "I didn't think he had slept with her. She was no looker, let me tell you that, and Blaise and I did think it was a bit odd when he appeared down the stairs again a little too early."

Ginny stopped her stirring and pointed her wooden spoon threateningly at his face. "About that – why didn't you stop him? I know you weren't drunk, so you can't give me that, and I know you could have stopped him from making a fool of himself, because he listens to you."

"I never told him to go to that beast of a woman," Armand defended, putting his hands up in surrender. "Besides, it was Blaise's fault for egging Draco on. He knew that Draco was drunk out of his mind, and Draco always has been ridiculously stubborn, which is only made worse when he's been drinking. Draco was beyond saving once Blaise started taunting him about being afraid of sex."

Ginny blinked. "He's afraid of—_What_?"

Armand paled. "Did I say that out loud?"

She nodded.

He cursed and ran a hand through his air. "Don't tell Draco," he begged, looking suddenly very boyish and guilty. "He'll skin me alive if he knew I told you."

"Is it true, then?" Ginny asked curiously. "Is he really afraid of sex?"

It seemed very strange for a man to be afraid of sexual intercourse, especially a man like Draco. One would normally expect him to be well versed in such acts. She knew he didn't pay much attention to women, but afraid of sex? That cast a whole new light on her fiancé.

Armand shrugged. "I don't know if he's afraid of sex, exactly. I think he's just worried that he'll do something wrong. He's a virgin, you know?"

Being a virgin herself, Ginny found nothing amiss with this disclosure, even though she did find it a little surprising. She had never really thought about it before – Merlin knew she didn't entertain herself by trying to imagine what Draco's sex life was like. That would just be weird . . . and slightly creepy.

This knowledge was valuable to her, though. Everything was starting to make sense now. It was clear that Draco hadn't wanted to go with that woman, but obviously Blaise had been taunting him for being afraid of sex, and that had spurred Draco into behaving recklessly just to prove that he was not. Now his confession made sense, and his sudden embarrassment because of it. He didn't want to admit that he was a virgin who had no clue what to do when it came to sex.

"I won't tell," Ginny said finally. "I don't think I dare bring that up with Draco. He might hex me or something."

Armand sniggered. "I wouldn't put it past him. He's quite defensive of his personal life and feelings."

"I know," Ginny said with a sigh.

It did make things harder between them having Draco so reserved. She was not really used to dealing with people so closed off. His reaction to her hug said it all. Any other friend would not have batted an eyelash, but he had got so awkward because of it and that, in turn, had embarrassed her too.

She looked back down at her potion, which was finally the colour of mustard. "It's ready," she observed with a smile. "I'd better go take it to him."

Armand nodded. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

Ginny laughed while scooping up the sobering draught into a cup. "Oh, you have no idea."

She held the now full cup of potion in her hands and glanced at the elf. "There, I'm done. You see, the kitchen has not blown up, and I haven't touched anything else from your pantries. You can stop wetting yourself now."

Dinky glared at them both and then started gathering up Ginny's dirty dishes, all the while muttering under his or her (Ginny didn't know which) breath about kitchen invaders.

Ginny shook her head in amused exasperation and then left the kitchen, followed by Armand, who was eating another apple. They parted ways at the foot of the grand staircase, and Ginny managed to get back to Draco's room without any hiccups. She knocked at the door this time and, hearing the muffled 'come in', entered the room.

Draco sat up instantly in the bed. "You're back."

Ginny nodded and handed him the potion. "You'd better drink it as quickly as you can. It doesn't have a very nice taste."

Taking the potion from her hands with a murmured thanks, Draco downed the whole lot in one gulp. He pulled a face at the taste before he relaxed and placed the cup on his bedside table. Almost immediately, he began to feel his headache lessening and his stomach finally begin to settle down.

"Thank you," he said gratefully.

"No problem," Ginny replied with a smile. "You'd just better remember our deal."

"I don't think you have to worry about me getting drunk like that again. I really don't enjoy drinking . . ."

He visibly shuddered at the thought of drinking another glass of Firewhisky. Others might enjoy it, but he much preferred to stay sober. He did not think that he would ever risk another agonising night just to be drunk for a few hours. The after-effects were simply not worth it.

They both fell silent for a moment, neither really knowing what to say to each other. It was the first time in days that they had nothing to argue about, and it almost made Ginny feel like she was being lulled into a false sense of security. She knew they couldn't always argue though, and, truthfully, she did not want to. She did not enjoy arguing with him – at least, not the vindictive arguing that they had been doing. Teasing was a completely different thing, and she did so love to put him out of countenance . . .

Ginny stared at him, watching as his face slowly regained its lost colour. Her potion had obviously worked, for he was already looking more bright-eyed. She remembered what Armand had said in the kitchens and thought how odd it was that he should be feeling just as anxious as she was. Most of her fear was aimed towards the wedding night, for not only was she a virgin, but it was horrible to think that her first might be with someone she did not love. Of course, the wedding itself was just as terrifying, as was the thought of what could be in store for her future. Ginevra Malfoy would be living a completely different life to Ginny Weasley. It really was quite scary to think how much would change.

She frowned and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Draco?"

"Yes?" he said cautiously, seeming to sense by her heavy tone that her conversation was not going to be something he would enjoy.

"Are you scared?"

Draco frowned and sat up straighter, staring at her in some confusion. He could tell by the way she was nervously playing with her hands that she was upset about something.

"About what?" he asked curiously.

She let out a deep breath and gave a funny little shrug, or at least he thought it was a shrug. It was more a convulsive twitch when he thought about it.

"I don't know. We're getting married in one day, and I just feel—" She broke off and turned her troubled gaze on him. "Well, don't you think that it's kind of scary?"

He sighed and leaned back against the pillows. "A little bit," he confessed, "but there's nothing we can do. We just have to make the most of it, I guess."

She was a silent for a moment, and Draco shifted his gaze back to her face. Her eyes were downcast and a crease had gathered on her brow. She was obviously bothered by something that she was not telling him, and he'd be damned if he knew why, but he felt a sudden desire to wipe the worried frown from her face.

"If you keep up that expression, you're going to really make me feel bad. Am I really that horrible to you, or are your Weasley sensibilities just offended in knowing that you're going to become one of the dreaded Malfoys?"

Ginny let out a gurgle of laughter, her eyes suddenly flicking towards his with such frank warmth that he felt something tug at his heart that was not quite concern. He ignored the feeling, but the image of her smiling eyes continued to linger disconcertingly in his mind for a long time afterwards.

"I must really look miserable if _you're_ trying to cheer me up," she remarked candidly, and then shrugged, looking away from him as her smile faded. "I don't know. I honestly don't know how I feel about this marriage, or you, or anything at all for that matter. I'm just . . . scared. I don't even know why I'm so scared; I just am." She shook her head in exasperation or confusion, Draco was not really sure which, and then she looked back at him. "Does that make any sense?"

Draco nodded slowly. "Yeah, it does."

He was scared too. Of course, it was only natural to get nervous before a wedding, as Draco knew that other couples got pre-wedding nerves too, but those couples had willingly chosen to get engaged. Draco and Ginny had effectively been forced into their engagement. Somehow that made things so much murkier in terms of where they were heading, and only made his fear grow. This marriage had the potential to change their lives, and Draco knew that it would definitely change his. Really, when he thought closely about it, he was completely terrified of what the future held for him.

"I think—I think I feel the same."

Suddenly, there was a knock. Draco paused and stared at the closed door.

"Ginevra, dear, we really must go now," his mother called. "We still have to get your dress."

Ginny let out a small sigh, feeling slightly disappointed that they had been interrupted when Draco was finally opening up to her. There was no point in trying to have a heart-to-heart with him when his mother wanted her to leave.

She looked back at Draco with a resigned expression. "I'd better go."

He nodded, not really knowing what else to say, and watched her stand up off the bed. She walked to the door and then paused, turning her face back to his with an odd expression on her face. It wasn't quite a smile, yet it wasn't quite a frown either.

"I'm glad we got to talk," she said softly. "It's been good."

Draco inclined his head. "Yeah."

Ginny gave him a small smile, opened the door, and then left the room to go find Narcissa. It was time to get her wedding dress.

**OOOOO **

The dressmaker's shop was a lot different to what Ginny had expected. As she knew that this was Narcissa's personal dressmaker, Ginny had been expecting something very grand, with an opulent shop and owner. Madam Tunningham was nothing of a sort, nor was her shop. She was a very elderly lady with a hunched over back and wiry grey hair. Her eyes were so pale that they had an almost colourless quality, and she tended to squint. Wrinkles had been carved into her face like the crumpled lines of an old parchment, and her smile was certainly nothing to admire. She was, to be frank, quite hideous, and the sombre black dress she was wearing did nothing to soften her appearance.

Her shop was just as decrepit. Everything was clean, of course, but there was a lingering smell of musk and age that Ginny did not like. The curtains were old fashioned and reminded Ginny of the ugly drapes that had hung in Grimmauld Place. The wooden counter was in need of a good polish, and the dais that stood in the centre of the room was very modest in its appearance.

Ginny stared at Narcissa. "Is this really the right place?"

Narcissa let out a tinkling laugh. "Don't let these humble appearances deceive you, Ginevra. Madam Tunningham is a master at her art; you will never find another dressmaker to create you a more beautiful dress."

Ginny wasn't sure if she believed the blonde, but just in that moment, Madam Tunningham herself came over and clasped Ginny's hands warmly in her own wrinkled ones.

"You must be Ginevra Weasley," she said in her frail voice. "It is an honour to create the wedding dress for dear Draco's fiancée."

"Uh, thank you," Ginny replied a little uncertainly.

Madam Tunningham smiled and patted her hand fondly. She then glanced up at Narcissa, who was looking oddly out of place in such a humble abode. "Your son has found himself a beautiful bride. I can tell that it will be a pleasure to dress Miss Weasley."

Molly beamed at Ginny, puffing her chest up in pride. If there was one thing she loved, it was to hear her children complimented.

"Yes," Narcissa agreed, "but we have little time before the wedding, Imelda, so it will have to be something simple, I think."

"Nonsense," Imelda replied with a wave of one wrinkled hand. "She shall be a goddess. You will see."

Ginny suddenly found herself in an iron grip and was steered to the dais. Her dress was stripped off her without preamble, leaving her standing in just her petticoat. Imelda charmed her measuring tape to start taking Ginny's measurements for the dress, and all the while she chatted about what style Ginny would suit, which style she actually wanted, and whether she had any dress in mind.

"Um, well, I don't really know," Ginny confessed, trying to not flinch at the measuring tape swirling around her. "It's all been so sudden."

"No matter, no matter, I'm sure I can find you something you will like," Imelda said with a grin.

The old woman stared at the clipboard that had been magically writing Ginny's measurements and then frowned to herself. Ginny wondered what she was frowning about, but that was soon made clear when Imelda pointed her wand at Ginny and said a charm. Immediately, Ginny felt yards of white satin wrap around her body to form a beautiful wedding dress.

Ginny's jaw dropped as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She could not believe that Madam Tunningham had managed to conjure such a beautiful dress so quickly. The sleeves were long and tight on her arms, curving down just below her shoulders to cut across her breasts in a low loop. Bands of thick, white silk were weaved into the strip of fabric curving along her breasts and shoulders, and tiny little diamonds had been encrusted into the fabric with the bands. It was clear now where Imelda's money went. Her dresses truly were magnificent, and as Ginny stared at the floor-length creation, with its long white, satin train trailing out behind her – the hem of it also encrusted with white, silk bands and diamonds – she could not believe that she was actually staring at her own reflection. When a long, sheer veil was placed over her face, complete with a diamond tiara to sit on her crown of red curls, she knew she was dreaming.

"Do you like it?" Imelda asked, peering up at Ginny through her squinty eyes.

"Like it?" Ginny breathed out in a rush. "I love it! It's beautiful."

Narcissa smiled proudly and gave Ginny a kiss on the top of her head. "And you, my dear, look beautiful in it."

Molly could only let out a wobbly sob. "Oh, my baby is all grown up!" she gushed, dabbing at her eyes where tears were forming.

Ginny turned and smiled at her mother, tears coming to her own eyes. Even if this wedding was not what she had always dreamed of, she truly had found the dress of fairy tales.

"Will you be taking this dress, then?" Imelda asked.

Ginny nodded, wiping at her eyes. "Yes, I'll take the dress."

She wouldn't dream of settling for anything less. Narcissa had been right. Madam Tunningham was truly a master at her art, for she had made even Ginny feel like the most beautiful and grandest woman in the world.

**OOOO**

Ginny had not seen Draco for the rest of the day. He had his own last minute business to deal with, and so she had spent the rest of the day discussing wedding details with her mother and Narcissa. The wedding was going to be very small and private. There would be no bridesmaids, no best men – only the holy man, the bride, the groom, and their close family. Ginny understood the reasons for this. It was a controversial marriage, for no one expected Draco to marry a Weasley, and she had an inkling that Narcissa did not wish the manor to be over-run with Weasleys and their friends. Ginny was surprised to find that she didn't really mind. She felt that it would be awkward, and who could imagine Hermione Granger and Harry Potter coming to her wedding with Draco Malfoy? She could just imagine the uproar it would cause, as well as the uncomfortable questions. Things were much more convenient this way, and it helped to know that Draco's side of the family and his friends would also be restricted.

Once night time had come, Ginny retired to her bedroom with an increased feeling of nervousness. Tomorrow was her last day of being single, and while she and Draco had worked out their differences, she was still worried about the future. There was no escaping the terrified feeling she had about the marriage, and it was to very uneasy dreams that Ginny finally fell asleep.

**OOO****O**

The next day seemed to go ridiculously fast in Ginny's mind. Once again, she barely got a chance to see Draco. Everyone seemed to want his or her attention, and though she frequently caught his eye, it seemed that they never actually got a chance to talk. Ginny began to wonder if the others were doing it on purpose. Maybe they thought that if they kept the two of them apart then perhaps she and Draco would be more likely to not fret over the wedding. It was a ridiculous hope.

Draco had left later in the evening to go sort out the place where they would spend their honeymoon together. Ginny had nearly had a heart attack when she had found out where he had gone. She had very nearly forgot that they would be expected to go on a honeymoon. The wedding itself was frightening enough, but spending three days alone with Draco made her want to curl up and die – even if they had come to a new understanding. In fact, that only made things worse, for she had come to realise that he would have been far more likely to keep his distance if he still hated her. She was positively terrified at the thought that he might try and get amorous with her and could only hope that those three days would go by quickly.

Apart from fretting about the upcoming honeymoon, Ginny's thoughts were directed at the wedding itself. Everybody was stressing about getting things done, and even Narcissa seemed to be on tenterhooks. There was so little time left now, and everything had to be ready before tomorrow when all the guests would arrive. Ginny was not allowed to do much to help in terms of practical things. Her role for the wedding seemed to be to look pretty and not screw things up. This really didn't leave much for Ginny to do, and so she was simply left to wander around the house, wondering how it was that her life had come to this, and whether it was possible that she would wake up tomorrow and it would all be a dream. Merlin, she hoped she would.

Alexia had caused a little uproar by throwing another jealous tantrum. Ginny should have known it was coming, but it had not stopped her from being surprised all the same by the venomous confrontation.

Ginny had just been walking up the stairs to her room to go to bed when Alexia had appeared from the shadows on the landing, her acidic eyes positively dripping with hatred.

"Ginevra, I've been wanting to talk to you," Alexia said with a twisted smile.

Ginny, who had no desire to talk to the blonde, merely tried to walk on, but Alexia grabbed her wrist in a hard grasp.

"Let go of my wrist, Alexia," Ginny said coldly. She knew that any discussion with Alexia would only be vindictive and hurtful. She did not want to talk with Draco's cousin at all.

Alexia laughed softly. "You know, Weasley," she mused, her green eyes gleaming with derision, "you really did surprise me with snagging Draco like that. I never thought he would go with such a piece of blood-traitor trash like you, but obviously I was wrong." Her lips twisted into a cold smirk. "I wonder how long you will manage to keep him satisfied. It won't be long before he realises what a mistake he has made, and then he'll go looking for a better bed to share."

Ginny let out an amused snort. "And I suppose you'll be waiting with open legs for him?"

"I could satisfy him far more than you ever could," Alexia responded with a scowl. "You don't even deserve him."

Wrenching her wrist free, Ginny gave her own rendition of a mocking smirk. "That's the sad thing, isn't it, Alexia? You tried so hard, and yet I didn't try at all and he chose me. Doesn't life just suck like that?"

Alexia's face tinged with pink. Ginny started walking back towards her room, satisfied that she had managed to give a sharp set-down to the irritating woman. Alexia, however, was not to be dismissed so easily and whipped out her wand, sending a hex at Ginny's retreating back. Luckily for Ginny, Narcissa had been coming up the stairs at the same time and spotted her niece casting the hex, so was able to dispel it. The scolding that had followed had not been pretty, but Ginny had not stayed to hear it. She was, however, very delighted to know that Alexia had finally received her just desserts for being such a spiteful cow.

When Ginny finally collapsed on her bed that night, she could only stare with anxious eyes up at the roof. This was it. This was the last time she would be a free woman. Tomorrow she was going to be married to Draco Malfoy, and then everything would change.

Even with her acceptance of the marriage, nothing could prepare her for the gut-wrenching nerves that had taken a hold of her stomach. There was no escaping it, but wishful thinking couldn't hurt, and right now Ginny was really wishing herself somewhere else. She could not believe that tomorrow she was going to be married to Draco Malfoy, the man who had teased her relentlessly at school and had treated her so awfully.

She sighed and tried to go to sleep, but for a long time she lay awake, fretting and worrying over what would happen the next day. Whatever would happen, Ginny knew that she would not enjoy a single moment of it. This was the wedding she had been dreading for a long time, and it was only hours away . . .


	15. Husband and Wife

**I should say now (as I don't think I did) that I'm totally disregarding the seventh book, as well as a good portion of the sixth book. You can make up your mind on how Voldemort was defeated, but all the Weasleys are very much alive in this story, and Draco was never ordered to kill Dumbledore. Does that mean Dumbledore is alive? That's completely up to you, as it really makes no difference to the world of the fic.**

**Husband and Wife**

Draco let out a deep breath as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He felt more than a little ridiculous, and was not sure that he was fond of the traditional garb pureblood wizards were supposed to wear on their wedding day. His boots were black, as were his pants, but instead of a waistcoat and the typical white shirt, he wore a black tunic over a loose black shirt. On top of that, he had a floor-length fur cloak, also black, wrapped around his shoulders, festooned with a curious gold brooch on his right shoulder. The brooch was shaped into a perfect circle, with the Malfoy crest engraved in the centre: a large M entwined with a snarling gold dragon, and four stars surrounding it.

There was much meaning behind the family crest, but Draco was more interested in worrying about his appearance than the importance of his brooch. He just could not get past the fact that he was wearing a tunic. Even wearing wizarding dress robes at Hogwarts had never been this bad, as at least then everyone had been wearing them. No one else in the congregation would be wearing such a ridiculous outfit today, and he felt rather put-out that it was only he who had to do this, for he knew that Ginny would get to wear a normal dress. It was sexism, or at least that was what Draco thought as he grumbled over his appearance.

From a romantic's point of view, he seemed like some mysterious warrior of an old novel being deceptively angelic in his appearance, yet shrouded in black cloth. All he needed was a sword and a horse and he would be the epitome of a Muggle warrior. Draco would have scoffed at such an assessment – being neither romantically minded nor fond of Muggle fantasy books – and he would have been horrified if anyone dared to call his features angelic.

In truth, he did have a point. There was not much about Draco's features that could be considered angelic. He may have the silvery blond hair, but no matter how much his mother had liked to call him 'her little angel', Draco had grown far too sharp-faced and angular to be the sweet, gentle image of such a heavenly creature. Still, he was handsome in his own way, and his extreme fairness, combined with his black garb, only made the steely grey in his eyes stand out all the fiercer. His eyes had always been his most attractive features, even if they were quite piercing, yet there was something alluring about those grey irises all the same. Sometimes they would smile secretly when he thought no one was watching; sometimes they would soften into a deep, stormy grey and come alive with emotion, but always were they mesmerising.

Right now, those eyes were flickering with nerves, giving his face an absurdly youthful appearance. He could not believe that in just half an hour he was going to be married to Ginny Weasley. He had hoped that something – anything – would happen to put the wedding off, but events had stayed stubbornly smooth in their progression. In part that was his fault, for even with all his grumbling and mutterings, Draco had helped to keep that smooth path, as had Ginny. They had both agreed that it was better to get things over and done with as soon as possible, but that didn't stop Draco from feeling sick to his stomach. If he didn't know better, he'd say he still had his hangover.

There was a light knock at the door. "Draco, are you dressed? Can I come in?" Armand's voice called.

Sighing, Draco gave one final glance at his reflection, repressed another sigh, and then walked over and opened the door. He met his cousin's smile with a scowl and held the door open for the younger blond.

"You know," Armand mused, walking into the room and looking rather handsome himself in a fine coat of navy blue, "if you keep looking like such a storm cloud, you're going to scare your little fiancée right out of her knickers."

Draco's lips twitched into a wry smile as he shut the door. "I guess I'll know what to do for the honeymoon then."

Armand chuckled and then sat down on the bed. They both were silent for a moment – Draco being too obsessed with his own thoughts to really pay much attention to his cousin. The whole morning he had been trying his best not to think about the wedding, but it seemed that everywhere he went people were talking about it. Ginny had been shut away with the women, so he hadn't even talked to her, and, to be honest, nor did he wish to. Seeing her would only make things worse.

"How are you feeling?" Armand asked a bit more seriously.

Draco sighed and sat down next to Armand on the bed. "Tired, nervous, ill – take your pick."

He had not got much sleep last night. It had seemed that he spent the whole night tossing and turning in the bed, too worried about the upcoming wedding to even consider closing his eyes. It was all just so much to take in.

"Are you happy?" his cousin persisted.

"Happy?" Draco repeated with a frown, as if the word was far too foreign for him to understand. "How can I be happy? I'm twenty years old and getting married to a girl I barely know."

It was ridiculous to think that he could be happy. Sure, he and Ginny had managed to overcome some issues, and maybe it was true that he found himself viewing her in a much more kindly light, but that didn't mean he was going to be suddenly delighted that he was getting married to her. The very thought was preposterous. Besides, he did not love her – there was just no getting around that fact. Out of all the women he could have married, Ginny had been the only one he could stomach living with, so he had chosen her. Sure, she had her good qualities, there was no doubt about it, and sometimes he did find himself feeling some affection for her, but it was not enough to be considered love.

Draco had not forgot the night he had wanted to kiss her, but as there had been a time when he had wanted to kiss Pansy as well, he did not put much stock in those feelings. He did have to admit that he thought she was beautiful – and, oddly enough, she seemed to be growing more beautiful to him as each day passed – but he found himself dismissing it as nothing. Physical attraction, although important, was not the foundation of love. There had to be something more, something deeper. Though he had little, if any, experience with love, he felt that what he and Ginny had together was a shallow puddle at most. It was tense, uncomfortable, sometimes friendly, and – as much as he hated to admit it – sometimes flirtatious, but never was it love.

Armand, who was oblivious to Draco's complicated thoughts, stared at his cousin in some amusement and exasperation. "Well, why don't you try getting to know her then?"

"What?" Draco said, distracted from his musings.

Armand shrugged. "You're always complaining about how you don't know her, so why not get to know her? You're going to spend the rest of your life with her, whether you like it or not. Don't you think that it's time you start taking an interest? Find out what her hobbies are, see what she likes and dislikes – you know?"

Draco frowned to himself. His first thought was that he had taken an interest in her, but then he realised that he hadn't really taken an interest in _her_. Sure, he had been intrigued by her artlessness and spirited ways, and somehow he had found himself attracted to the apparently plain girl – who had suddenly not become so plain – but that was not _who_ she was. In the end, he realised he had liked the idea of her and that was what had caused all these problems in the first place. He had not taken the time to get to know _her_ and that distance and lack of understanding had inevitably led to one argument after the other, until they were quite ready to strangle each other.

Maybe Armand was right in saying that he needed to make an effort. After all, he and Ginny were about to become husband and wife. Draco supposed it couldn't hurt to try and get to know her a bit more.

"Maybe you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Armand reverberated, cheeky grin firmly in place. "I'm always right."

Draco laughed, the sound a release to the nerves building inside him. "Funny, I thought that was my line."

Armand grinned and placed a friendly arm around Draco's shoulders. "Oh no, my dear cousin, you are always wrong – you just like to think you're right. I, on the other hand, really am always right."

"It's a wonder your head can fit through the door," Draco mused dryly.

"It's ironic you should say that," Armand remarked with a mischievous smile. "I've been wondering that about you my whole life."

Draco laughed. "You always have to have the last say, don't you, cousin?"

His disreputable cousin merely gave a shrug and then got to his feet. "I'm nowhere near as bad as Ginny. That girl can just go on and on and on – even I finally have to give in and let her win. She doesn't shut up once she's in her stride."

Draco gave an unbidden smile. "I know."

He could recall every one of he and Ginny's arguments, and almost every time it was she who had got the last say. It didn't matter if she was in the wrong or not; she was just determined to be the final one to speak. Even the other day it had taken him yelling nearly at the top of his lungs to make her be quiet and listen. It had used to bother him considerably, and he knew that if he were arguing with her right now it would be just as annoying, but he had come to accept that was just who she was. He simply made sure now that he cut her off before she got too much into her stride. It seemed to be working so far . . .

Armand glanced down at his pocket watch. "We'd better go. The wedding is going to start soon, and we can't have the bridegroom being late."

Draco's stomach gave a violent lurch. He tried to keep himself calm, but for once he could not master his expression. This was just too much, even for him. He was getting married – actually getting married – and that meant his very life was going to change.

"This had better be worth it," he grumbled under his breath. "Father, you owe me big time for this."

**OOOO**

In another part of the manor, Ginny was feeling just as nervous and anxious as her soon-to-be husband. She was already dressed in her wedding dress and her hands kept agitatedly smoothing down the soft material. Diamond drop earrings hung from her ears; her cheeks were lightly dusted with rouge, and her lips were painted a soft, reddish-pink. Her hair had been styled elegantly into a spiral of curls on top of her head, with a diamond tiara perched at the front, holding the long, sheer veil in place. She had not covered her face yet and so her unusually pale features were still free to analyse, with her freckles standing out terribly against the milky whiteness of her skin. Celia would have condemned her as a village-maiden dressed in a pretty frock if she had seen her, but Ginny was far from worrying about things like that.

Narcissa had left some time ago to welcome the guests, so it was just Ginny and her mother in the room. They had talked about many things in that time, but Ginny had only found it awkward. She could not explain to her mother why she was not as happy as she might have been, not having the heart to tell her mother that she and Draco had only pretended to love each other. It seemed like so long ago that they had made that agreement in the parlour, but somehow they had managed to fool everyone. Only Armand and Narcissa knew the real truth, but sometimes it seemed to Ginny that even they were fooled by the act she and Draco had put on.

Ginny stared down at her hand where the two circles were burned into her skin. Soon those circles would fully unite, magically bonding Draco to her soul as her husband. It had been romantic as a child to think that she could be bonded to someone in such a way, but now she just felt frightened by it all. This was such a huge step, and she was conscious of the fact that she did not love Draco. It was true that she no longer hated him, and she did realise that her feelings were becoming alarmingly muddled towards her fiancé, but love him? The thought was laughable.

"Come, Ginny," her mother said softly, placing an affectionate hand on her shoulder. "It's time."

Sucking in a nervous breath, Ginny followed her mother out of the room, her heart quickening in fear. The world seemed to pass by her in a blur, distorted and meaningless when placed beside the reality of what was yet to come, yet she somehow moved smoothly down the stairs towards the gardens where the wedding was going to be held.

They stopped outside the door to the gardens, waiting for the sign when they could enter. Ginny could hear the orchestra that had been hired playing some prelude music, as well as the gentle murmur of voices from the guests. Through a crack in the curtains, she could make out some of the guests, including her six brothers, her sister-in-law, Fleur, and one of her great aunts.

There were quite a few blonds gathered, who she knew must be Draco's relatives, but the two that most caught her eye were a couple near the back. They were obviously husband and wife, judging by the way they leaned against each other, but it was their faces that intrigued Ginny. The woman was extremely beautiful with vivid green eyes, just like Alexia's, but her hair was more golden than pale blond, and there was something much sweeter about her expression. The blond man next to her seemed relatively short, with a thin, sallow face and watery grey eyes. He looked rather weedy and weak.

She wondered if the couple were Alexia and Armand's parents, but her musings were cut shot at the sound of approaching footsteps. Ginny turned to see her father coming towards her, looking very grand in his finest dress robes. She smiled as bravely as she could for the occasion. With a proud smile coming to his own lips, Mr Weasley enfolded her in his arms, enveloping her in his familiar spicy smell.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, holding her close to him for a little moment longer.

"Thank you," Ginny mumbled, feeling fresh tears trying to squeeze out of her eyes.

She had never imagined her wedding to be like this, but having her father hold her was a comfort, even if it was bitter sweet. She knew that this marriage was going to take her away from the life she knew and thrust her into the world of pureblood high society. Her family, in all their humbleness and simplicity, could never be part of that.

Her father pulled back and smiled tenderly down at her, wiping a tear from her cheek with his coarse, work-hardened thumb. "Don't cry, Ginbug," he admonished, using her old nickname in the tide of fatherly emotions swelling up inside him. "You should be happy."

Ginny sniffed and shook her head, frustrated with herself for letting her emotions get the best of her. She could not break now.

"I am happy, Dad. I'm just—"

"I know."

He smiled at her confusion and then turned to speak to her mother, leaving Ginny feeling just a little worried. Had her father realised the truth?

Before she could ask him what he had meant, her mother was giving her a crushing hug and wishing her luck. Ginny blinked and looked up at her mother, who was now furiously wiping her eyes.

"I have to leave you now, sweetie, but your father will be here with you to lead you down the aisle."

Ginny nodded and watched her mother give a very watery smile before slipping through the doors to take a seat next to her sons. There was a change of music, and Ginny realised that the orchestra had started playing the song that called the bride to the altar. It was an old melody, and slightly haunting in Ginny's mind. The low, woeful call of the strings seemed a far cry from the chirpy march that Muggles used, but, in a way, it was perhaps more fitting. It reflected the solemnity of the ceremony, in which a daughter was being given from one family to another. Love had eased the meanings behind the exchange over time, but there was no love in this marriage. The reality of what was going to happen was all too clear in Ginny's mind.

The doors were thrown fully open and Ginny glanced anxiously up at her father, who nodded and pulled the veil down over her face. He tucked her trembling arm in his and then led her out through the doors to the garden where the pale, autumn sun basked in a soft sea of blue. The trees were shaded in reds and browns, with a few of the fallen leaves littering the ground like dancing fire. Only a few flowers remained in full bloom. It was not the typical scene for a wedding, but Ginny thought it beautiful nonetheless and could not help but admire the picturesque scene.

A long, crimson carpet had been rolled out for her to walk up, and on either side sat the Weasley and Malfoy relations who had been invited. Faces turned towards her as she walked, both familiar and unfamiliar, but all of that was nothing as Ginny's eyes fell on the lone figure standing at the end of the carpet. His steely eyes were fixed intently on her, but his expression was hard to read. She thought she could see admiration, but she wasn't quite sure. He always had been hard to interpret, and this moment was no different.

Ginny couldn't help but think that he looked magnificent and not at all like the spoilt, complaining man she was used to. His very presence commanded her eyes to watch him, and the closer she came to his side, the more powerful the feeling became. Perhaps it was simply his clothes, or maybe it was the intense emotion she could see swirling in his eyes – either way, she found it hard to look away.

She came to the end of the crimson carpet and met Draco's eyes through the veil, glad that her face was covered so that he could not see her blush. Her heart had suddenly quickened of its own accord, and her hands resumed their nervous trembling. Was it possible that she was really going to be married to this man?

Her father relaxed his hold on her arm and took her shaky hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly before offering it to Draco. This symbolised the passing of patriarchal rights that her father carried and was a very important part of the ceremony in a worldly sense. No words were to be spoken, and Ginny watched as Draco reached out and enclosed his hand over hers, the sudden warmth of his skin surprising her for a moment. His eyes seemed to seek hers through the veil, but Ginny was too embarrassed to meet his gaze and stared down at her feet.

Mr Weasley stepped away from them and took his place beside his wife, leaving Draco to lead Ginny up to where the Holy Man waited. Ginny finally raised her eyes and stared at the Holy Man in front of them, who seemed to shrivel right before her in the sun. He was wearing loose brown robes and a pair of leather sandals on his feet. He had a long, scraggly beard, a rather protuberant nose, and a crooked smile that revealed a few missing teeth. His eyes were dark and embraced the smiling wrinkles that constantly lined his face, and there was an aura of peace and warmth about him that seemed to soothe some of Ginny's nerves. He smiled gently at her, seeming to understand her unease, and then did the same to Draco.

"Please," he said, embracing them both with his calming eyes, "face each other."

Ginny turned to look at Draco, just as he did the same – their hands still clasped, as was the custom. With her heart thumping in her chest, she lifted her eyes to his face, noting his stoic expression. He almost seemed as calm as the Holy Man, but she could feel the moisture gathering on his palm, which told her that he was more nervous than what he was letting on. Somehow that was comforting.

The Holy Man pulled out an ancient book and opened it. He then began to read:

"We are gathered here today to act as witnesses to the union of Draco Lucius Malfoy and Ginevra Molly Weasley . . ."

Ginny found her mind – and gaze – wandering as the Holy Man spoke. She could see her family in the sea of blond, their flaming red hair standing out in a stark contrast against the fair Malfoys. Her mother was well and truly blubbering now, causing a small smile to pass over Ginny's lips. She wondered if she would be like that if her daughter ever married.

Her stomach suddenly plummeted. If she ever were to have a daughter, it would be to Draco. Her eyes darted to his, meeting his gaze with a sudden rush of nerves. Would he expect her to give him a child?

"Now for the vows," the Holy Man continued in his frail voice, snapping Ginny's attention back to him. He coughed to clear his throat and glanced at Draco. "Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife: to love her and no other, respecting, cherishing and protecting her, as is your duty, until death do you part?"

Draco did not look at Ginny as he spoke. "I do."

The Holy Man turned to Ginny. "And do you, Ginevra Molly Weasley, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband: to love him and no other, respecting, cherishing and protecting him, as is your duty, until death do you part?"

"I do," she responded in a small voice.

"Then by the power invested in me, I call upon the ancient magic of the heavens and the earth to bind your souls, according to the laws of our land, as husband and wife, making you one in name, heart, and spirit. May you keep your vows forever more, never breaking your faithfulness to the bonding magic that runs in your veins. Amen."

"Amen," Ginny murmured, along with the echoes of everyone else.

A strange surge of warmth spread through her palm where the two rings had been burned – the same hand that Draco was holding – and a flash of light surrounded their intertwined hands. Ginny stared down in surprise at the glowing light, watching as two gold rings ascended from the luminescent beams to hover in the air before their stunned gazes. It was the final act of bonding magic: the two rings that had been burned into each of their hands having finally united as one to become corporeal wedding rings that would unite them both legally and spiritually.

"Take the ring," the Holy Man ordered Draco, "and seal the magic."

Draco took the ring and slipped it onto Ginny's ring finger. Ginny was then ordered to do the same for Draco. She did so with trembling fingers, feeling his piercing gaze on her the whole time. Once she was finished, she quickly snatched her hands away, almost forgetting the final part of the ceremony was yet to come, until those horrible words echoed around her:

"You may now kiss the bride."

Her heart gave a violent jolt in her chest, and her eyes instinctively darted to Draco's face in horror. She could see his reluctance to follow the order in the way his jaw tightened, but he reached up to lift the veil from her face nevertheless. Her mouth started to go dry, her hands becoming sweaty with nerves. She stood perfectly still as Draco lifted the shroud of cloth away from her face, allowing their gaze to meet for the first time without the obstruction of the veil.

For a moment they just stared at each other in silence – Ginny's heart pounding so forcefully in her chest that she could barely breathe or think – but then he took that small step towards her and lowered his face to hers. If it were possible, her heart started beating even faster in anticipation of what was to come, and then his lips were pressing against hers, and what little breath she had was quickly stolen with his kiss.

Almost instantly Ginny's cheeks flooded with pink, her whole body throbbing with the power of her beating heart as she realised that he was actually kissing her – if you could even call it that. A peck might have been a better word, as the kiss was both chaste and simple, finishing as abruptly as it had started. Yet even as he pulled his lips away, barely a second later since that first contact, Ginny could still feel her heart thudding violently against her chest and her cheeks burning.

Both were quick to turn the other way to avoid the other's gaze – too embarrassed and uncomfortable to face each other after their kiss – and were soon swallowed up by the congratulations of their families. Narcissa was hugging Ginny, telling her how pleased she was to call her a daughter; Molly was crushing Draco in her arms, cooing all over him and telling him how handsome he looked, and all the rest of the Weasleys and Malfoys were either eyeing each other in some hostility, or breaking the ice by sharing a few, well-thought insults under the cover of fake smiles. Even a wedding between the two families could not break a hundred-year-old feud.

Draco finally managed to escape Mrs Weasley's clutches and fled the gathering of well-wishers to take residence at a table where refreshments had been set up. He made it a point to avoid the wine and took a cup of pumpkin juice instead. The wine might have calmed his agitation more than the juice, but he had no desire to repeat the disaster of two days ago.

His eyes involuntarily sought Ginny amongst the crowd, spotting her easily because of the white dress she was wearing. He had never seen her look more beautiful, and he could still recall the sheer admiration she had inspired in him when he had lifted the veil. Even now, he was struck by how radiant she looked; his eyes riveted to her smiling face as she talked with her mother. He dropped his gaze to his cup, remembering the fleeting kiss they had shared. Ever since that night he had seen her sleeping in her bed, he had wondered what it would be like to feel those soft lips against his, and now he knew that they were just as smooth and velvety as they looked. He could not deny that he had enjoyed the kiss, as he was just a man, but even he had his scruples; he had not been able to allow his lips to linger against hers any longer than needed. It was just too awkward.

Draco spotted Ginny's father coming towards him and rather fruitlessly looked around for a means of escape. Some of Ginny's brothers blocked one path, looking rather menacing as they glanced towards him, and a rather unsavoury great aunt, who had a fondness for pinching his cheek, guarded the other. Defeated, Draco dredged up a smile and faced Mr Weasley with all the dignity he could muster.

"Mr Weasley," he said stiffly, giving an equally stiff inclination of his head.

Ginny's father smiled kindly at him and picked up a cup of wine. "No need to stand on formalities with me, Draco. You're part of the family now."

"I know," Draco replied, not quite managing to hide his reluctance to embrace the fact.

Mr Weasley said nothing for a moment, his eyes roaming the guests as he took a sip of his drink. Finally, he turned back to Draco and gave him one of his own piercing looks. "I hope you plan to take care of my daughter."

Draco was a little startled by the sudden attack, and, bristling slightly, he placed his cup down on the table and folded his arms across his chest. "Of course I will," he responded, wondering why Mr Weasley would even ask him that.

He wouldn't dream of hurting Ginny, no matter how annoying she could be. She was his wife now and that meant that he would protect her with all the power he had.

"Good," Mr Weasley said simply.

Draco shifted on his feet and looked back at the guests. It was rather uncomfortable talking to Ginny's father, and he wished that the man would just go away. Unfortunately for him, Mr Weasley seemed quite determined to stay.

"She's a good girl, my Ginny," Mr Weasley continued fondly, now turning his gaze to his daughter. "Always has been. I never had to worry about her when she was a little girl; she knew how to take care of herself."

Draco followed the older man's gaze to where Ginny was now talking rather heatedly with her brothers. He could tell by the way her eyes sparkled with rage that she was getting fired up about something. He wondered if it was his fault the siblings were arguing. Judging by the way Ronald was scowling mutinously and throwing dark looks at him, the newly wedded Malfoy thought that his suspicions were probably right.

Ginny's eyes caught his, and she faltered on her words as she blushed and quickly looked away again. This display seemed to silence Ronald more than her comebacks could have done, and his face, if it were possible, went redder than his sister's.

"Ah," Mr Weasley said with some amusement, catching the exchange between Draco and Ginny. "You two are very bashful towards each other. You're going to have to forget your shyness if you want to enjoy tonight."

Draco made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat and avoided the older man's gaze, his cheeks tingeing lightly with pink. He did not want to talk about the honeymoon with Ginny's father, or anyone else for that matter, and wished that someone would come to interrupt the awkward conversation.

Mr Weasley laughed, seeming to notice Draco's discomfort. "There's no need to blush, my boy. Everyone knows what happens after the wedding."

"Oh, look," Draco said suddenly, unable to handle the torture any longer, "I think my mother is calling me."

Not even waiting for Mr Weasley to reply, Draco made his escape from the older man and almost knocked Ginny to the ground in the process. His hand instinctively grabbed her shoulder to steady them both, but when he realised who it was he was touching, he quickly pulled his hand away as though burned.

"Oh," Ginny breathed, her face once more going red. "It's you."

Draco thought it would be rather pointless to state the obvious and so remained silent.

"I was just trying to get away from my brothers," she confessed in a strained voice, still feeling the awkwardness of their situation after the kiss.

He smiled a little reluctantly. "I'm sure they were delighted about our marriage."

She laughed, losing some of her shyness as the tension between them eased. "Bill and Charlie were alright about it, and Percy didn't seem to care too much. Fred and George thought I could have done better, but Ron seems to have taken it as a personal insult. I don't think he'll ever accept that I'm married to you."

Draco shrugged, not really caring either way. "It doesn't bother me. Ronald can hate me as much as he likes."

"Well, I know you don't care," she replied with a rueful smile, "but it does make things awkward for me. They are my brothers, after all."

"If it makes you feel any better, my family are probably secretly hoping you will die early so that I can marry someone they think is more suitable."

Ginny laughed. "Oh, that makes me feel loads better."

"Ah," a voice interrupted before Draco could make a reply, "this must be the radiant bride."

Ginny turned and saw the same thin-faced man who had caught her attention earlier. She felt Draco stiffen beside her and glanced at him in surprise. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but it almost seemed like he was glaring at the older man.

"Uncle," Draco said stiffly, "I didn't know you were here."

The thin-faced man laughed. "I see your father's dislike of me has rubbed off onto you."

When Draco continued to glare at him, the man smiled in some amusement.

"Your mother invited me, Draco, so don't sit there giving me those Basilisk looks your father is so fond of. Lucius can think that I want to murder him all he likes, but that doesn't mean I am going to miss my nephew's wedding." He chuckled again to himself. "Old Lucy seems to be doing a good job in killing himself, anyway. I didn't see him today. Was he too ill to leave his bed?"

Draco's jaw tightened. "My father is very ill. It's not good for him to be around too many people."

The older man's teeth gleamed in a smile. "Ah, I see. How unfortunate for him to miss his own son's wedding, though I assume you haven't told him yet that you've gone and got yourself shackled to a Weasley. That really would send him to his grave."

Ginny glared at the older man, offended by his remarks. "I am right here, you know."

Silas Malfoy grinned at her. "Keep your hair on, girlie. I know you're there."

Slightly mollified, Ginny stared at him, not quite sure what to make of the man or his jovial way of talking.

"That's none of your business, Uncle," Draco replied coldly, instinctively drawing closer to Ginny as if to protect her from his uncle.

Ginny found that rather odd, not really seeing much harm in the man before her. He was just as weedy and weak as she had thought him to be, and his jovial speech was not exactly terrifying – more so annoying.

Silas let out a bark of laughter. "Aye, you're going to become just as cold and haughty as your father. I feel sorry for you, girlie, but I'll congratulate you all the same. Let's just hope that you don't live to regret your decision."

He bowed to them both with the usual Malfoy grace, a small smile playing on his lips, and then he walked away.

Ginny frowned and turned to Draco. "Is that really Armand's father?"

Draco nodded, his eyes still following his uncle's progress. "Yes, that's my uncle Silas." His grey eyes found hers, and a grim expression came to his face. "I don't want you talking to him. He's not trustworthy."

She blinked in surprise. "Why not?"

He sighed and looked back at the retreating form of his uncle. "It's a long story. Just trust me on this one."

Ginny nodded to show she understood, but in her mind she wondered why it was that Draco seemed to dislike his uncle so much. Was he really untrustworthy, or was Draco just being paranoid? She found it hard to think that Narcissa would invite someone dangerous to the wedding, but then there were a lot of sour faces aimed towards her from the Malfoy side. She had a suspicion that some of them would be more than happy to slip a little poison into her cup, and so she decided that maybe it would be wise to just trust Draco on this one.

**OOOO **

The day continued just as awkwardly as it had begun. Ginny and Draco stuck together for the rest of the reception, finding it easier to handle their relatives together than alone, but the continual hints and winks they received about the honeymoon soon had the two feeling just as uncomfortable and embarrassed as they had earlier. They found it difficult to meet the other's eye and spent most of their time in silence when they were not talking to a family member. The honeymoon loomed over their heads like a dark shadow, and neither wanted to broach the topic before they needed to.

Right now, Draco and Ginny were stuck posing for wedding photos – their mothers having taken it upon themselves to hire a photographer for the occasion. Ginny and Draco had resisted as much as they could, but in the end they had given in, and so there they stood, arms wrapped around each other in the typical newly-wed pose, their smiles slightly frozen and forced.

"How long are they going to make us do this?" Ginny said through gritted teeth, still with her arms wrapped around his waist.

"I don't know," Draco replied in an irritated voice, also in the same position, "but if that photographer tells me to say '_cheese'_ again, I swear I will hex him."

Ginny giggled, despite her efforts to suppress the sound, having thought that for the past ten minutes. She looked up to meet his gaze, the smile lingering on her lips. His lips twitched in response, and suddenly the flash of the camera blurred their vision.

"Perfect! You two make a lovely couple," the photographer cooed with a broad smile.

Draco and Ginny shared an uncomfortable look and quickly released their hold on each other.

"I think that's enough photos," Draco said firmly.

Ginny nodded, her cheeks flushed with pink. "I think so too."

The photographer reluctantly complied, complaining that it wasn't every day he got to take pictures of such a photographic couple, and then developed the photos for them through his magic. All the photos were handed to Narcissa, who smiled and thanked the man with much more friendliness than Draco and Ginny had.

Meanwhile, the newly-weds had started making a hasty retreat to a safer area of the garden, but they were once again accosted – this time by Mrs Weasley. She dragged them off to the dinner table, it being nearly six in the evening now, and so Ginny and Draco were left with no choice but to take their seats. Most of the guests had gathered at the table to eat and were very eager to engage the two in conversation, but Draco and Ginny were too absorbed in their own thoughts to pay much attention. The fading of the sun also meant the coming of night, and it was under the face of darkness that they would have to leave for their honeymoon.

Despite the couple's reluctance to talk, the dinner went surprisingly well. Armand seemed to have made quite a hit with Ginny's brothers and was currently entertaining Fred and George with some stories of his own. Ron was still glaring mutinously at every fair-haired Malfoy in sight, and Narcissa, Molly and Arthur were all congratulating themselves on a very fine wedding. But then the stars continued to spread, and Draco and Ginny became more silent and distant with each other, as well as everyone else – their awkwardness only increasing with each minute that passed. Finally, it was time for them to leave, and though they had tried to put it off for as long as they could, even they could not ignore the narrowed looks Draco's mother was giving them.

Draco stood up with an inward sigh and glanced down at Ginny, who followed suit. All the younger ones – minus Ron – started whistling and making jokes as the unhappy couple made their way towards the box that held their Portkey, causing both Draco and Ginny to flush in embarrassment. Eager to escape the taunts of their relatives, Draco picked up the Portkey and held it out for Ginny. As soon as her finger touched the smooth wood, she felt the familiar pull at her navel and then the world was spinning around her. She opened her eyes to find herself standing in nicely furbished foyer. Surprised, she turned to Draco with a questioning look.

"Where are we?"

"Malfoy Lodge," he replied, while looking around the foyer. "It's one of our smaller estates."

One of the doors opened and a small house-elf came rushing out. The elf bobbed a curtsy to Draco and Ginny and then smiled. "Welcome, Master and Mistress. I have your room ready."

Draco leaned down and whispered in Ginny's ear, "Watch out for her. She's a spy for my mother."

Ginny nodded and looked at the house-elf with misgiving. No doubt the elf had been placed at the lodge to make sure that they actually had a honeymoon.

The elf smiled again. "Please, follow me."

Sighing slightly, Ginny walked side-by-side with Draco up the narrow flight of stairs. The house was much smaller than the manor, and seemed more like a grand cottage than anything else. She doubted there were many rooms.

The elf stopped outside a wooden door and bobbed another curtsy. "Your room."

Draco dismissed the elf with a curt nod and then opened the door and entered the room. Ginny followed much more slowly, taking her time to look at her surroundings. The room was furbished nicely enough, but it was the very large bed in the middle that caught her attention. There was no doubt in her mind what was supposed to happen in that bed; she just wasn't sure that she wanted to go through with it.

Draco closed the door, causing Ginny to stare at him in some alarm. She wondered if he actually expected her to have sex with him. She hoped not, but it was a little suspicious that he had shut the door. Feeling edgy, Ginny folded her arms and watched him through wary eyes. He sighed and walked past her to sit down on the bed, remaining silent for a moment before he finally lifted his eyes to her face.

"Well, that's the wedding done," he said tiredly.

Ginny remained standing, not wanting to move any closer to the bed. "I guess."

"Are you warm enough?"

She nodded, still keeping her distance.

He fell silent again and she made no effort to break the tense silence that followed. They were now husband and wife, and both were very aware of what they were supposed to do. Neither, however, wanted to be the first to broach the topic.

Draco scratched his head and looked around the room. His eyes rested back on Ginny. "Do you want to look around the house?"

She nodded, glad that he had been the one to speak, and followed him out of the bedroom. They peeped into the other rooms, noting that none of them had been made up for guests and were all covered in white sheets. It was clear that the elf had been ordered to only make up the master bedroom.

There were three guest rooms in total on the second floor, as well as a nice bathroom with a large bath. Ginny and Draco could find nothing much to distract themselves with up here though, and so retreated down to the first floor. There they found a small parlour, and then, connected to that, a lounging room with two cosy seats and a few shelves of books. Ginny immediately agglomerated towards the bookshelves and started eyeing the spines of the books. Draco did the same. Once they were both satisfied that they had found something relatively interesting, they settled themselves down on separate couches and attempted to read.

Ginny kicked off her heels and discarded her veil and tiara, then stretched out more on the couch, hoping to get more comfortable. She was very aware of the tension in the room. She found herself reading the same words over and over again, and glanced at Draco to see if he was faring any better. Judging by his glazed expression, he was not. She glanced back down at her book and attempted to read again, but her mind kept turning back to what was supposed to happen later that night. If only she could think of a way to get out of it.

Time passed by and neither had made any move to go back to the bedroom. The little elf came in from time to time to see how they were going, but for Ginny it just felt like the elf was trying to hint that they should be up in the dreaded room, doing Merlin knows what on that obscenely large bed.

Finally, she could not take it anymore and placed down her book. "I'm going to bed."

Draco awoke from his reverie and looked at her. He nodded and placed his own book down. "Yeah, I think I will too."

They stood up and made their slow trek back to their room, occasionally breaking the awkward silence by a feeble question on Draco's part and a monosyllabic reply on Ginny's. Conscious of her thumping heart, Ginny made her way over to the dressing table that had been set out for her and started unfastening her dress, her fingers trembling slightly as she undid the clasps. To say that she was feeling uncomfortable was an understatement, but she knew that she had no choice but to remove her clothes. She could not sleep in her wedding dress, after all, and if he was determined to make love to her then she would soon be wearing nothing anyway. She felt rather sick at the thought.

Draco, who had just shut the door, flushed instantly when he saw what she was doing and turned his face to stare at the wall. Ginny did her best to ignore him and undid the rest of her dress, letting the silky material drop to the floor so that she was standing in her petticoat. Draco's eyes flicked towards her again, and he watched in helpless fascination as she reached up and removed the pins from her hair, allowing the soft, flaming locks to fall down and hug her waist.

He swallowed hard and looked down at his hands, his heart quickening in his chest. His discomfort was acute, and though he knew that he was supposed to sleep with her tonight, that didn't stop him from feeling more than a little out of his element.

Ginny walked over to the bed and quickly slipped in between the sheets, pulling the covers up to her chin. Her eyes peeped over the blankets, staring at him nervously. "Are you not coming to bed?" she asked in a small voice, noticing that he was still fully clothed.

Draco flushed again. He nodded and moved over to his side of the bed before starting to undress in a rather wooden manner. Ginny couldn't help but watch him, trying to be as subtle as she could, but Draco seemed to sense that her eyes were on him and stared at her in some reproach. Blushing furiously at the fact she had been caught staring, Ginny hid her face under the blankets. She soon heard Draco's footsteps coming closer to the bed and felt her heart quicken with a sudden fit of anxiety. The blankets were pulled back, allowing a cool breeze to slip in, and then she felt the bed sink as his body slid in next to hers.

For a moment Ginny just lay there stiffly, her heart pounding in her chest, and her eyes wide as she stared at the roof. Her mind was going haywire, wondering if he was going to suddenly roll on top of her and try to have sex with her. She didn't know what she would do if he did that, and glanced rather fearfully at the man beside her. She just couldn't do this. Not tonight. Not when they had only just been married and she still felt so horribly uncomfortable.

"Draco," she said in a small voice.

"Yes?" came the equally quiet reply.

"C-could we just go to sleep?"

There was a pause, and for a moment Ginny wondered if he ever would reply, but then he spoke again:

"Okay."

Letting out a deep sigh of relief, Ginny settled herself a bit more comfortably in the bed, closing her eyes as she did so. "Thank you."

Draco said nothing. What could he say? He knew that by not sleeping with her he was breaking his promise to his father and mother, but he also knew that he would never force her to do anything with him. He was a heartless man sometimes, but even he would never do that. The very thought was sickening.

Sighing heavily, he muttered the spell to snuff out the candles, and soon the room was shrouded in darkness. The wedding was over, but now the real test had begun. How was he ever going to get her pregnant and satisfy his parents?


	16. First Steps

**First Steps**

The room was silent except for the steady breathing coming from the two occupants in the bed. Their determination to stay apart from each other was obvious, as both were precariously perched on the edge of the mattress and facing opposite ways. The bed was large, but for the two occupants it could never be large enough. Both had spent an uneasy night of anxious brooding, and that had only been worsened when a wayward foot would make contact with the other's skin. It was for this reason that the two had retreated to their current stations and had somehow forced their bodies to stay in their stiff positions. Even in sleep, they were conscious of how little they desired to be close to each other.

A few rays of sunlight slipped through the green curtains, taunting the sleep from Ginny's eyes and causing her eyelashes to flutter in protest. Groggily, she rolled over onto her back and placed an arm over her face to shut out the offending light. She was no early riser and felt rather irritated that the sun should be so demanding as to expect her to get up now. Her sleep had not been comfortable, and she refused to get out of bed when she was finally feeling warm and somewhat content. The sun would not be ignored, however, and continued to battle with her eyes until she could no longer cling to the sleepy drowsiness of her awakening.

Frustrated, Ginny pulled her arm away from her face and frowned up at the ceiling. It suddenly struck her that today was her first day of being a married woman, but in truth she would much rather have stayed asleep. She knew that for the next three days she would be expected to spend all her time with Draco, and, considering the fact she really did have no one else to talk to except him, she probably would end up doing just that. She cast her eyes toward her husband's sleeping form and allowed her gaze to move over the marble-like skin of his back, following the curve of his spine up to his neck where his silvery-blond hair fell in disarray. His face was turned away from her, but Ginny was still intrigued enough to roll over onto her side, tuck her hands up under her chin, and stare at him in contemplative silence.

It was strange to think that this man was her husband. She knew very little about him when she thought about it, yet here she was lying next to him in the bed as his wife. Thankfully, he had not pushed her to consummate their marriage, and if Ginny had her way, he never would. Last night she had felt the pressure to have sex with him – as was the custom of her society – but she just could not bring herself to do it. Having persuaded him against sleeping with her once, she was shrewd enough to realise that she could probably do it again.

Of course, a small part of her realised that eventually she would have to give in to her duty as his wife (for what choice did she have if she wanted to have children of her own?), but Ginny had never agreed to follow that part of the marriage and felt justifiably revolted at the thought of sleeping with a man she neither loved nor knew very well. Maybe when she was old, desperate, and nearly losing the ability to procreate, she would finally give in to duty, but until then he would just have to accept that this marriage was going to be one of sexual abstinence.

Ginny sighed and shifted uncomfortably in the bed. She still felt edgy being so close to him, even after having a night to recover her composure, but her common sense told her that she had nothing to be afraid of from her husband. Deep down, she knew that Draco was not the kind of man to force his love onto her – if love was what you could call it. After all, throughout their whole engagement he had never tried to touch or kiss her once, so why would he start now simply because they were married? Even last night he had agreed to her wishes with more grace and equanimity than she could have hoped from a newly wedded man. There was no doubt that he was not the kind of man to let his passions rule him when the other was not willing – if he even felt that passion toward her. She still remembered his reluctance to kiss her, and was not sure if it had been out of distaste for her or whether he was just feeling as nervous and uncomfortable as she. Whatever his reason, it was obvious he was not like those men who seduced women for their own pleasure and amusement. Draco, for all his many faults, was indeed a gentleman at heart, and though he was often brusque with her, he had never given her (or any other woman for that matter) reason to believe that he did not respect her as a woman.

It was for this reason that Ginny knew her maidenly virtue was quite safe with Draco, but that did not, unfortunately, stop her from feeling terribly awkward around him. It would be rather ridiculous to assume that just because she was married to him she would now be all jolly and open, not minding at all that she was expected to share a bed with him and Merlin knew what else. If anything, their marriage had only increased the tension, for now she had to suffer the natural anxiety of being thrown into close proximity with a man she barely knew and had disliked for most of her life, as well as dealing with the fact that there was this looming, silent command for her to follow her wifely duties and be intimate with him. Whether she was determined to keep Draco at arm's length for as long as she could or not, there was no escaping the demands of a patriarchal society, such as the one she had married into. The pureblood world demanded that she give him a child immediately, but he had never said that she had to. In fact, he had not really said much to her at all concerning their married life. This then led her to a rather puzzling question: what was it that he actually wanted from her?

She frowned and tugged on her hair as she always did when she was trying to mull over something. He had never spoken about what the marriage would entail, nor had he spoken about why he had to get married so quickly in the first place. All she had overheard from that infamous conversation was that his parents had wanted him to marry someone before the month was out, and his mother had chosen her, Ginny, as the ideal bride. Why, though? Why was it so important that he marry, and why had Narcissa chosen her?

No answer presented itself, and with a small sigh, Ginny removed her hands from under her chin and tugged the blankets up more over her body to get warm. The chill of the morning was starting to sink in now, and in the hope of trying to get a bit more sleep, however feeble that wish might be, she closed her eyes and shifted to get more comfortable in the bed – even daring to spread her legs out a bit more to ease the claustrophobic feeling running through her body. She was sure that Draco wouldn't mind that she had taken up more room, he being asleep anyway – and thank Merlin that he was asleep. She would have found it much more difficult to enjoy her morning sleep-in if he were awake.

After lying with her eyes shut for some minutes, Draco finally began to stir. Warning bells went off in Ginny's head as she heard the small, sleepy noise from next to her, and she opened one eye to see Draco sit up and rub his eyes where the lingering remnants of drowsiness still clung. He looked rather adorable in that moment, as odd as it was for Ginny to think that. It was the truth, though, for it was hard not to find him endearing with his blond hair sticking up in odd angles, and his expression so unguarded and sleepy that it was impossible to describe him as anything but cute. Draco, of course, would have been horrified at such an assessment, but he was far too busy smothering a yawn to notice Ginny's covert gaze, and could hardly be expected to know what she was thinking.

So it was that Ginny was given free rein to assess her husband's 'morning face', and she could not help but feel pleasantly attracted by what she saw. However, once she realised what she was doing, she duly started upbraiding herself for allowing his good looks to lead her into such treacherous thoughts. Just because they were married did not mean that she was allowed to think that he was attractive, because he wasn't! Well, maybe he was a little, but she was not going to yield to such base desires! And really, how dare he look so good in the morning, anyway? It was not fair! No man that frustrating and annoying should be allowed to look so damn good! Weren't all the evil people supposed to be ugly? Not that he was evil, of course, but Ginny was quite ready to believe that he might be for making her momentarily forget herself and start to look at him in such a way.

Draco seemed to finally sense that she was staring at him and turned his still sleepy gaze on her, meeting her glazed, slightly frustrated expression with a questioning stare. As always, when he thought someone was doing something odd, his right eyebrow lifted ever so slightly, and his mouth twisted into a puzzled frown.

"What?" he said bluntly.

Ginny blinked at the sound of his voice and then flushed to the roots of her hair, inwardly cursing herself for being so foolish as to stare at him like some glassy-eyed fish. He had always had an uncanny way of catching her out when she was staring at him, and even more mortifying was the fact that he had caught her doing it when they were in a bed together just after he had woken up. It really was just her luck. She hated the thought of what he was thinking of her right now.

"I, um . . . I wasn't staring at you," Ginny lied, twisting the sheet between her fingers and staring at her hands in her discomfort. "I was just thinking, if you really must know."

Well, that wasn't far from the truth. She _had_ been thinking, and it just happened to be that she was thinking about how oddly attractive he looked when he just woke up. She was not going to admit that, though. Not only would it go against her pride to admit such a thing, but she was quite certain that she would die of shame if she did.

"I see," was all he managed to say, still with that wary look in his eyes.

Honestly, did he think she was going to pounce on him or something?

Draco stared down at his hands, his silvery-blond hair falling forward to obstruct his vision and catching the light to glow with a pale hue. It almost looked like a halo from Ginny's point of view, and if circumstances were different, she would have indulged in having a hearty giggle and teasing him about how angelic he looked. As it was, she was far too conscious of the awkwardness of their situation to do much but fidget and stare at the ruffled blankets around her.

Silence settled around them, only building the tension in the room, and Ginny finally let out a frustrated sigh. There was no escaping the awkwardness. How could she talk to him like she used to? Even when she was engaged to him, it had never been this bad! At least then she could run away when things got too tense, but what could she do now? Go hide in a cupboard? Sleep on the couch? Make a run for it and hope that some horrible spell wouldn't activate to kill her? It was ridiculous!

She glanced back at Draco, hoping to discover what he thought of all this. He was still staring at his hands, thinking whatever it was that Draco Malfoy thought about in the mornings after waking up for the first time next to his wife. Judging by his rather vacant stare, he was not intending to move anytime soon. It was annoying, as she didn't particularly feel like being the one to make the first move to get out of the bed, but she was quite certain that if she stayed here any longer, she would end up screaming. She could already feel a slight twitch creeping into her body because of her agitation and frustration. Draco, on the other hand, seemed to be fascinated with his hands. The only movement he did make was the gradual droop of his mouth descending into a frown. It was clear that he was deep in thought, but that did nothing to help Ginny, who found the silence suffocating and only increased her frustration.

"I can't take this anymore!" Ginny declared more to the room than to the man next to her.

Draco blinked and stared up at her in surprise, just catching her shoving the blankets off her body as she got out of the bed. Since she was only wearing her petticoat, she moved over to where her belongings had been set out and rummaged through her bag to find her light blue dressing gown. Ginny tugged it ruthlessly around her body, then stormed out of the room without a backwards glance, slamming the door shut behind her.

The blond stared at the closed door with a puzzled frown on his face. That had been rather strange, but then Ginny always had been a bit weird. It wouldn't surprise him to learn that she was some psychopath in need of urgent medical attention. She always had been a little too free with her hexes, and sometimes she had reminded him of a badly tuned Wireless: her emotions just seemed to switch from one thing to the next or else stayed in some fuzzy medium that could never quite make up its mind to be angry or cheerful. Maybe he was being too harsh, though. Their situation was awkward, but she didn't even understand the half of it. He had yet to disclose the rest of his bargain with his parents, and a small part of him hoped that he would never have to. He could just imagine how that conversation would go, and judging by the way she was taking to being married to him, he had no doubt that she really would become a psychopath then.

He sighed and pushed the covers off his body, shifting so that his feet were on the floor. For a moment, he just sat there, brooding about how he was ever going to confess to Ginny what this marriage was really all about. It was clear that she had no desire to sleep with him, and though in a way he was just as reluctant (he did have some scruples), he still knew that everyone, especially his parents, would be expecting children. Children meant sex, and sex meant that he had to somehow charm Ginny into actually wanting to be physically intimate with him. It almost seemed like a task for Hercules.

"How am I ever going to do this?" he muttered.

He couldn't just rely on his money with Ginny; he couldn't even rely on the fact that he was considered the biggest catch in pureblood society. Somehow, he was going to have to work for this, and for a guy who had never tried to seduce a woman before, and who was not at all good with women in the first place, it was a very daunting thought. Even last night, he had felt too embarrassed to approach her, and she had practically given him an opening when she had started getting undressed. He just couldn't do it, though; he was too inexperienced, too conscious of their situation. It felt wrong to push her to do anything he knew she did not want to do, but he could almost hear his father's voice telling him that he expected the signs of a grandchild before the month was out.

Draco sighed again and collapsed back against the bed, glaring up at the ceiling. He didn't know what to do anymore. Duty demanded that he obey his father, but his scruples would not let him even touch Ginny. He felt so torn and confused, and part of him wanted to scream at how unfair all of this was. He was only twenty years old, for goodness sake! Yet here he was married to a woman he barely knew and was being pressured to get her pregnant. It was such a heavy burden to carry, and even worse was the fact that he knew he didn't really want this. He couldn't turn back now, though; the gold ring winking evilly at him from his finger told him that clearly enough. There really was no other option.

Draco let out a miserable groan and covered his face with his hands. "What have I got myself into?" he asked the room at large, almost wishing that somehow he would wake up and this would all be some horrible dream.

Why did he agree to do this? Why couldn't he have just been selfishly stubborn and ignored his father's wishes? Things would have been so different: he wouldn't be married to Ginny; he wouldn't be worrying about children; and he wouldn't be sitting alone in this room brooding over the fact that the life he had planned for himself had taken a rather violent turn for the worse.

Suddenly, a loud crack sounded in the room. Draco jumped in fright and sat up to see the house-elf watching him through bulbous, green eyes.

"Is the master coming for breakfast?" the elf asked in its squeaky voice. "Mistress has already started. It's only fitting that Master joins her."

Draco almost felt like hexing the meddling elf for actually having the nerve to tell him what he should or should not be doing with his wife; instead, he simply nodded his head. "Yes, I'm coming, uh—" he broke off and frowned, looking at the elf questioningly.

"Binky is my name," the elf disclosed with a toothy smile, seeming to realise why Draco had paused.

"Right . . ." Draco stood up and glanced around the room for his belongings. His eyes flicked back to the elf. "You can tell my—my wife that I'll be right down."

Binky curtsied with flourish and then vanished with another loud crack.

Draco sighed again and ran a hand through his hair before getting dressed into some decent clothes – though much more casual than his usual apparel. He quickly brushed his hair, not even bothering to take his usual care in making sure he looked immaculate, and then left the bedroom to go join Ginny in the dining hall. As soon as he entered through the door, he could feel the sudden wave of pent-up frustration emanating from his wife. He paused for a moment to assess the situation.

She was sitting stiffly on her chair at the other end of the long table, her knife and fork scratching against the china plate where the remnants of her eggs on toast still remained. A dark scowl twisted her lips, and her brow was furrowed in obvious irritation. He didn't need her to speak to know what she was thinking – it was clear that she was blaming him for everything. Draco cautiously took his seat at the table and began to eat his breakfast, giving her a discreet, wary glance from time to time. Any minute now, he was sure that she was going to lash out at him. Awkwardness and timidity could only last for so long, and she had always had a penchant for pointing the finger at anyone but herself.

Not wanting to fuel her anger any more than he had to, Draco decided to just keep his head down and eat in silence. What he did not realise was that his adopted muteness only made her more irritated. Ginny had never liked silence, and as she was feeling acutely uncomfortable and aggravated right now, she was ready to seize on any excuse to rip into her husband for forcing her into this horrible marriage. Being away from him for those few minutes had allowed her mind to slip into bitter frustration. She didn't know how to act around him now or even how to handle this new relationship, so her only response was to get angry. _He_ had demanded she marry him; _he_ had been the one that had given her no choice in the matter; and _he_ was the one that had torn her from all her romantic dreams. She was just left with him in this uncomfortable, unromantic marriage; it was only natural that she should start to feel resentful towards him, and his silence only sealed that resentment.

It was just as Draco was about to take another mouthful of food when Ginny let her knife and fork drop to her plate with a loud clatter. He glanced up at her, noticing her clenched fists, flushed cheeks, and sparkling brown eyes. He could tell by her uneven breathing that she was forcibly trying to restrain herself from screaming at him. Inwardly repressing a sigh, Draco placed his own knife and fork down much more composedly and stared back at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked calmly, hoping that by keeping his voice even it might have some kind of mellowing effect on her.

"I can't do this!" Ginny declared. She threw her napkin down on the table and stood up. "I just can't do this!"

Alarmed, Draco also got up from his seat and placed his body in her path before she could escape from the dining hall by way of the side door. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.

Had she gone mad?

"Move!" Ginny commanded in a voice bordering on hysterical. "I'm not staying here a minute longer!"

"Don't be ridiculous. You know you can't leave."

"Oh, can't I? You just watch!"

She made to side-step around him and leave through the door, but Draco reached out and grasped her wrist, pulling her back towards him. Ginny struggled against his hold, hitting him with her free hand and making a few angry threats and promises, but Draco held fast. To lose her now would spell disaster for both of them.

"Will you just be still!" he shouted, finally losing his patience. "Honestly, woman, you'd think I was some violent brute with the way you're acting!"

Ginny scowled up at him. "With the way you man-handle me all the time, you'd might as well be."

Draco returned her glare. "I don't man-handle you," he retorted, releasing her to emphasise his point. "And what do you think you're doing, anyway? Do you know what people would think if they found out you had left the day after our honeymoon? I'd be the laughing-stock of society!"

Ginny's eyes flashed dangerously and she even stamped her foot. "I don't care what people think! I'm not staying! I feel like I can't breathe in this house, and I swear I'm going to go crazy if I have to spend another hour of awkward silence with you!"

Draco sighed, losing some of his anger as he realised what this was all about. "I know it's awkward—"

"Yes, it is," Ginny cut in. "We don't even know each other, yet we're expected to live with each other? I can't do this! I can't live like this, and I refuse to!"

"You don't think that I hate this as well?" Draco demanded, feeling his irritation come rushing back.

Didn't she understand that this was just as hard for him? He hated this as well, but at least he was trying. What was she expecting? That they would somehow be able to move past everything and act like a happy couple the very next day? He was sure that even couples who did love each other faced some discomfort, so why should they, who barely knew each other, be any different?

"_You_?" Ginny spat scornfully. "You're the one who wanted to get married in the first place!"

"I never wanted to get married!" Draco shouted, really losing his temper now. "I was forced into it just like you! Do you think that at twenty years of age I actually wanted to marry someone I barely know or even like? Do you?"

"I—Well, I don't know, but still—"

"No!" he exclaimed, drowning out her feeble stammering. "I've had enough! You sit there yelling at me because you feel like I've forced you into this marriage, thinking that it's my fault that things are so awkward, but you don't even try to understand _my_ situation! There are things far more complicated going on, but you can't even see that; you're just too worked up about yourself and blaming me for everything!"

Ginny dropped her gaze to the floor, suddenly silent. Draco didn't care whether she felt guilty or not. He was sick and tired of her throwing everything back at him like it was his fault, and while he did know that he had played some part in promoting their marriage, in the end he was just as much a victim as she. He was not going to listen to her stupid ranting when she didn't even understand what was really happening. She constantly accused him of being self-centred, but right now she was being more selfish and stupid than he had even thought possible of her. He just was so tired of it all.

Draco ran a hand through his hair and stared back at her downcast face, his own a mirror of exasperation. "Merlin, Ginevra, you just don't get it, do you?" he said much more quietly, though still irritated. "This isn't all about you, and if you're expecting things to be easy then I think you need to wake up and see the real world."

"I didn't expect things to be easy," she muttered defensively. "I just can't stand this awkwardness."

"Yeah, well that's the way things are. You said it yourself: we don't even know each other, so it's going to be pretty damn awkward until we do."

Ginny stared at him for a moment, as if trying to dredge up some new argument that would somehow make her in the right, but then she just sighed and collapsed on one of the couches by the door. "I'm sorry I'm being so difficult," she mumbled, placing her head in her hands. "I'm just so—I'm just so frustrated and upset . . ." She sniffed pathetically and buried her face even deeper into her hands. "I never expected my life to turn out this way . . . I always thought being married would be the happiest time of my life, but it's not. It's not at all."

Draco gazed at her hunched over form, noticing the way she was trembling slightly. He realised that she was probably crying and felt just a little sorry for her in that moment. He had never really expected to fall in love himself, but he could tell that she had set her heart on it. No doubt she had pictured her marriage to be something out of a fairy tale, where everything was perfect and harmonious and her husband loved her with all his heart, just as she loved him with all of hers. It was only natural that she should be upset upon realising her romantic dream would never come true, for their marriage was no fairy tale and it was certainly not perfect and harmonious. They argued far too frequently, didn't appreciate or even understand each other, and the mere suggestion of love was laughable. Their marriage was nothing like Ginny's idealistic vision, and though he was no romantic, seeing her so heartbroken did make his own normally cold heart respond in some empathy.

Ginny sniffed again, and he could tell that she was doing a brave job of trying to act as if she was not crying. He frowned and, not even believing what he was doing, he sat down next to her on the seat. He was completely out of his element – as anyone would admit that Draco Malfoy was not the kind of guy to give sympathy talks – but he wanted to comfort her somehow.

"I don't think either of us expected things to turn out this way," he said quietly, shifting a little bit so that he could look at her better, even though she was still hiding her face with her hands.

Ginny showed no sign that she had heard him talking, but Draco figured that he had might as well carry on since he had started.

"This is our life now, Ginny. We're married, whether we like it or not. Eventually we're going to have to come to terms with that. It's awkward, I know, but it won't always be this way."

Ginny lifted her tear-sprinkled face from her hands. "Do you think so?"

He nodded and, without even realising what he was doing, he reached out and wiped a fresh tear from her cheek with his thumb, his touch almost caressing as he pulled his hand away. Ginny stared up at him through eyes torn with emotion.

"How can you think that?" she asked. "How can you think that we'll ever pull through this? It's just too hard, Draco."

"This is only our first day as husband and wife. Even if we did know each other more, it was always going to be difficult because of our circumstances. Besides, it's not so bad now, right?"

Her lips lifted into a reluctant smile, and he saw the way her eyes warmed a fraction. "I guess it's not so bad . . ."

"Right, so no more talk of leaving. We can do this," he said firmly. "We just have to give things a chance to settle down."

She nodded and wiped the last few remaining tears from her face. "You're right. I promise I won't try to leave again."

Draco breathed out a sigh of relief and relaxed more against the chair. "Good, because I really didn't want to become the laughing-stock of society. Can you imagine the rumours that would fly around if people knew you had left straight after the honeymoon night?"

Ginny giggled. "Perhaps it would be a good thing. At least then those blonde bimbos wouldn't adore you so much."

"Jealous?" he taunted, unable to help himself.

"You wish," Ginny retorted with an inelegant snort.

He only smiled and then stood up from the couch, reaching down to offer her his hand. "Come on. If we're going to be stuck with each other for three days, we might as well find out what there is to do around here."

Ginny laughed and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "I hope you're not expecting me to parade around in my petticoat all day. I'll have you know, Mr Malfoy, that I have much more decency than that."

Draco shook his head, though a smile tugged at his lips. "As much as it would make a statement, I was not expecting you to do that. In fact, I was just about to suggest that you get dressed while I go tell Binky that we're leaving the house for a while."

Her face contorted into a scowl. "There isn't any way we can get rid of that sneak, is there? I swear that elf creeps about everywhere."

"Probably," Draco muttered, "but if we get rid of her, we'll only be landed with something worse. I wouldn't put it past my mother to come here herself; she's determined to make us act like husband and wife."

Ginny frowned. "Why? Surely she must know that we don't care about each other."

Draco went a bit pink, knowing that his mother seemed to have taken some strange idea into her head that he actually did like the red-haired bint now known as his wife. The horrible thing was that he actually had suggested something along those lines back when he had first made his choice, but that was before he realised just how frustrating Ginny could be. It was best not to dwell on those times . . .

Careful not let his thoughts show on his face, Draco opened the door and held it out for her. "I don't know, but my mother is a stickler for duty. She wouldn't care if we hated each other; she would still expect us to act like a married couple."

"I see . . ."

"Anyway," Draco said quickly, hoping to skirt the danger zone, "I'll go tell Binky that we're going out."

Ginny nodded her head. "Okay."

She watched him head off down to the kitchens, and she left the dining hall to go back to their room. Her mind was still troubled, but after talking, or rather shouting, with Draco, she felt like an immense weight had been lifted off her shoulders. It had felt good to get all her frustrations out, and she was particularly touched that he had gone out of his way to give her some comfort. Perhaps she had painted him blacker than he actually was? She had always thought him cold and unfeeling, but he had been almost tender with her. His quiet voice, his gentle touch – there had been something soothing about him, and, strangely enough, she had felt comforted.

Frowning, Ginny entered their bedroom and moved over to her dressing table. She picked up her wand from her bag and muttered a charm to set her belongings into motion so that they would organise themselves neatly in the drawers and wardrobe. Dresses swished past her face, but Ginny did not pay much attention, too absorbed in her own thoughts to really think about what was going on around her. How strange it was to think that she and Draco had managed to overcome some of their discomfort by shouting at each other. Of course, neither of them had been really trying to hurt the other; they were just frustrated and were venting more than anything else. But they had managed to talk through things and move on from the tense silence that had previously characterised their marriage. In doing so, Ginny had learnt to not only understand her husband more but also appreciate that he really did care about her in his own way. Somehow, it almost made Ginny feel hopeful that this marriage would not be so bad after all. Maybe everything would be okay.

Ginny finally turned her attention to her apparel and spent quite a few minutes deciding what to wear. She ended up choosing a floor-length white gown with very thin, vertical blue stripes. It had small puffed sleeves and a square neckline that cut modestly enough across her breasts. It was not her most stunning dress, but its simplicity made her own natural beauty stand out more. She twisted her hair up into a simple knot and then placed a straw hat on her head to complete her apparel.

"That'll do, I suppose," she said with a frown, now staring at her reflection in the mirror.

A glint of gold caught her eyes, and she glanced down at her finger where the wedding band rested, watching as the sun caught it in tiny bursts of golden light. Ginny clenched her hand into a fist and stared back up at her reflection in the mirror.

"I can make this work," she said firmly, her expression determined.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "Ginny, are you dressed?" Draco called.

Pulling herself together, Ginny stepped away from the mirror and smoothed down her dress. "Yes, I'm dressed."

Draco entered the room and gave her a quick, appreciative glance that made Ginny pause a bit in her musings. Surely it could not be right, but she could have sworn he had just looked at her with open admiration . . .

Oblivious to this lapse in hiding his feelings, Draco leaned back comfortably against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. "Binky tells me that there's a small wizarding town not far from here. It's not much, but I'm sure we can still find something to do."

Ginny nodded, still trying to work out if she had been imagining things or not. "Alright."

Draco pushed himself away from the wall and stood by the door. "Shall we go, then?"

Nodding again, she followed him out of the room back down to the small entrance hall where they had first arrived. Binky was waiting near the door and offered them both a toothy smile and a curtsy. Draco ignored the elf, not feeling particularly charitable toward the creature because of its nagging, spying habits; Ginny, however, felt obliged to give the elf a small smile. She had not spent years as Hermione's friend to now forget how to respect house-elves, even when they were as annoying as Binky.

A tug on Ginny's hand made her attention turn back to her husband, and she followed him out the door and into the bright sunshine. He released her hand again and gave her an apologetic glance.

"Sorry," he said. "I just figured it would be easier if we showed some public display of affection in front of the elf. I'm pretty sure Binky is going to report back to my mother now that we're out of the house."

Ginny shrugged, just glad to be outside. "It's okay. I understand."

He nodded and continued walking with her down the cobble path leading from the cottage. Ginny couldn't help the smile that came to her face as she looked around the picturesque garden. It was just like one would imagine when coming to an old-fashioned cottage, and she knew by the remnants of flowers hugging each side of the path that this place would be truly beautiful during the spring and summer months. Even now it had a striking quality to it with the old, smiling trees reaching over the path like an ancient archway of rusty leaves, and the ground littered with bursts of red and yellow. Out toward the blue horizon, Ginny could see a sea of purple, though some parts had faded thanks to the decaying fingers of autumn.

She looked up at Draco. "Are those lavender fields?"

He nodded, turning his own gaze to where she had been looking. "My mother loves lavender, so she demanded that a whole field of them be planted by this cottage."

"Does she come here often?" Ginny asked, looking up at him as she walked by his side.

"Not so much now. She spends most of her time looking after father, but there was a time when this place was like her home."

"Oh?" Ginny said curiously.

Draco stopped walking and stared at the fields with an almost sad expression on his face. "I can remember coming here often as a child," he said more to himself. "Mother would bring me, and sometimes we would spend weeks, even months together. I never used to understand why it was that Father never came . . ."

She stared at him transfixed, never having heard him speak so openly before. She didn't want to say anything in case he would suddenly stop, so she simply listened.

"My parents have not always loved each other. They had an arranged marriage, you see, and for a long time my mother couldn't conceive, and when she finally did, she just had miscarriages. I think my father hated her at one point . . . He can be very unpleasant when he is displeased with someone, and so this place became a sort of refuge for her during those times. Things did calm down once she got pregnant with me, and they did grow to love each other, but when the war started again everything just—"

He broke off suddenly and gave a self-conscious laugh. "Listen to me reminiscing about the past. I'm sorry. I guess I just forgot myself."

Ginny instinctively grabbed his hand, stopping him from rushing away as it seemed he would. "You don't need to apologise. I don't mind listening. Please, go on."

He shook his head and gently disengaged his hand from hers. "It doesn't matter. Some things are best left in the past."

Ginny's brow furrowed in puzzlement, but Draco was already walking away before she could question him further.

"Come on," he called back to her. "The village isn't too far ahead now."

Frowning still, Ginny picked up her skirts and ran to catch up with him. The conversation did not get brought up again for the rest of their walk, but for a long time Ginny wondered about what he had said. He had given her much food for thought, and not all of it was about Lucius and Narcissa's past, though it was his comment about his parents that had made her start to wonder about other matters.

"_My parents have not always loved each other_," he had said.

She had known that from the gossip, of course, but the way he had said it had made her pause. There was such sadness his voice, as if he felt troubled knowing that there had once been a time when his parents had not cared for each other. She couldn't help but wonder if her children would be like that if she and Draco ever had any. Would they too wonder over their parent's relationship? Her eyes flicked back to Draco's stoic face, and she hesitantly reached out and touched his arm to make him stop. He did stop, glancing down at her with a questioning look in his eyes.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked quietly.

He nodded.

"If we were ever to have children, would you want them to know how we got married?"

Draco frowned for a moment. "No."

"Why not?" she asked, though she had also settled on the same answer.

He sighed. "Because I've been there, and it's not nice to know that your parents never wanted to marry each other. I guess it just ruins it somehow."

She nodded and then looked back up at him curiously. "But your parents _do_ love each other now, right?"

"Yes," he said simply. "They love each other now."

Ginny twisted her lips in thought, wondering if it was just a coincidence. Deciding that it was best not to reflect on such things, for the thought of her falling in love with Draco Malfoy was highly ridiculous, she plastered a smile on her face. "I'm glad. I like your mum, even with all her meddling ways, and I'd hate to think that she always had an unhappy marriage."

He chuckled to himself. "That's good to know."

"Are you mocking me?" she demanded, feeling highly affronted.

"Maybe," he replied, his eyes lighting up with amusement.

Ginny hit him lightly on the arm, only earning another chuckle from him.

"Git."

"That's not very nice talking to your husband like that," he replied in feigned offence.

"Pooh!" Ginny exclaimed. "I can talk to you however I like."

"I hope that goes both ways."

"Of course not," Ginny responded with a cheeky smile in her eyes. "Don't you know that the perk of being a wife is that the husband can never say anything back to her?"

He laughed at that and then continued walking, still shaking his head as he suppressed chuckles. Not wanting to be left behind, Ginny caught up to him again, maintaining a faster pace so that she could keep up with his longer legs. They continued walking until they reached the village, exchanging some friendly banter here and there, and all in all keeping each other in good spirits – a far cry from the tense silence that had characterised their marriage that morning. Once they reached the village, Ginny dragged Draco to look around the shops, though neither of them saw anything that caught their eye. Some people looked at them curiously, while others hailed Draco upon recognising him and eagerly introduced themselves to his wife. Finally, the odd couple retired to a small café to sip coffee over a small table.

"You know," Ginny mused after a moment of companionable silence, "it's funny to think that only this morning I was so frustrated because of our marriage, but I have to admit I've quite enjoyed myself today."

Draco smirked. "That's good to know. I was worrying there would be no satisfying you."

Ginny poked her tongue out in response, and then fell into a fit of giggles at Draco's shocked expression. "You should see your face," she managed to gasp out between giggling. "You look so offended."

Draco's expression relaxed and a reluctant smile tugged at his lips.

"I wasn't expecting you to do that. Honestly, woman, don't you have any manners at all?"

"Nope," Ginny replied with a grin. "What'cha gonna do about it?"

He rolled his eyes, though the smile still lingered on his eyes. "You're crazy."

"And you're too stiff," she accused. "You need to loosen up, Draco."

"I am _not_ going to poke my tongue out at people."

"Well you don't have to do that – though it would be hilarious – but surely you must get bored of always acting so prim and proper?"

He folded his arms defensively. "I'm not prim and proper."

"Not when you're drunk at least," she agreed with an inelegant snort, "but sober?" She shook her head and gave an impish grin. "Admit it: you don't know how to have fun."

"I do too!"

"Do not!" Ginny sing-songed.

"Do too!"

"DO NOT!"

Some people glared at them, causing Ginny to giggle again. Draco went a little pink, embarrassed by the scene they were creating, which, of course, only made Ginny laugh even more.

"I told you that you don't know how to have fun," she taunted. "You can't even handle people staring at you oddly."

"Fine," Draco snapped. "I'll prove that I can have fun."

Ginny smiled gleefully and then glanced around the café for something that he could do. Her eyes spotted an old man with a walking stick.

"Okay," she said with a grin, turning back to the blond. "Go steal that man's walking stick."

"What? But that's so childish!"

"So?"

He glared at her, but she only smiled mockingly at him. Feeling his pride stung, Draco stood up from his seat and made his way over to the old man. Ginny's eyes lit up with laughter and, stifling her giggles with a hand over her mouth, she watched as Draco yanked the walking stick away from the old man and then started to make a run for it.

"_Sacrebleu_!" the old man shouted, standing up on his rickety legs and pulling out his wand. "_Tu reviens ici, tu freluquet jeunes, et donnes-moi ce bâton!_"

The old man threw a curse at Draco, who barely dodged it, and then started swearing so fluently that even Ron would have been proud. Draco ran past Ginny, who quickly leapt up from her seat to follow him, and they both burst out of the café and ran down the road until they came to a sheltered area of trees. There, they both collapsed to the ground – Draco out of breath from the adrenaline and Ginny out of breath from laughing so hard. She turned her face to his as she lay beside him on the ground, faint tears running down her cheeks.

"You're going to be in trouble now," she gasped out between giggles.

Draco sat up from the ground and glared down at her. "You're the one who told me to do it!"

"Yeah, but I never thought you actually would. Still, it was fun, right?"

He glared at her for a moment but then he too started to chuckle softly. "I guess it was a little, but now what am I going to do with this stick?"

"Chuck it?" she said with a shrug, sitting up from the ground.

"We can't do that. We'd better return it to him."

Her eyes danced merrily, and an impish smile formed on her lips. "I never thought you could be so thoughtful."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Even I have some decency."

He stood up, then offered his hand to her. She accepted his help and was easily pulled to her feet.

"Come on," he said, releasing her hand. "We'd better return this before that old man has a heart attack."

She giggled. "You're right. He did look pretty angry, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did, and now you see where your crazy games lead us."

She just shrugged and looped her arm with his, casting a sunny smile up at him. "But you still had fun, and that's what counts."

"Are you kidding? I'm beginning to wonder if I should have chosen Daphne after all. At least she would never make me steal old men's walking sticks."

"Daphne!" Ginny exclaimed. "Please tell me that you were not actually considering marrying that ridiculous woman?"

He chuckled and looked down at her surprised face. "No, Ginny, I would not consider Daphne for anything except to wring her vain neck. She's more fickle than all the woman of society put together."

"You're probably right," Ginny agreed. "So who did you consider besides me?"

He shrugged. "To be honest, I didn't want to marry any of you, but my mother can be quite pushy."

"About that," Ginny said with a frown. "Why did your parents want you to get married so early? I remember hearing some stuff that night, but—"

"It's a long story," he said with a sigh, "and one we do not have time for right now."

"Promise you'll tell me, though?" she persisted.

He looked down at her again, meeting her eyes steadily. "I promise."

She smiled. "Good!"

Draco came to an abrupt halt, coming face-to-face with his wrinkly victim. He gave a warning glare at Ginny, who showed signs of falling into giggles again.

"_Voici votre bâton de marche, monsieur_," Draco said respectfully, offering the stick out to the man in an appeasing gesture. "_Je m'excuse_."

The man took the stick from Draco's hands and, without warning, clouted the blond alongside the head with it. "_Tu es un idiot_!" he spat, and then hobbled off on his stick, leaving Draco to rub his throbbing head while Ginny laughed heartily at the humorous picture her husband made.

* * *

Translations:

"_Sacrebleu_!" - Damn! (A cry of surprise or anger rather than a curse.)

"_Tu reviens ici, tu freluquet jeunes, et donnes-moi ce bâton!_" - You come back here, you young whippersnappers, and give me that stick!

"_Voici votre bâton de marche, monsieur_" - Here is your walking stick, sir.

"Je me'excuse" - I apologise (or I'm sorry).

"_Tu es un idiot_!" – You are an idiot.


	17. An Alarming Discovery

**An Alarming Discovery**

After their first outing to the village, Ginny and Draco's time at the cottage was spent much more pleasantly. Indeed, their mutual agreement to try to get along had brought about a dramatic change in their relationship, to the point where Ginny found that she genuinely enjoyed being in Draco's company—when he wasn't being annoying, that is. A friendship was growing, slowly but surely, and with this new show of camaraderie, the newly wedded couple found plenty of ways to amuse themselves during their stay—unlike before when they had struggled to even read a book in the same room. Whether it was through playing wizard card games, going for walks around the countryside, or just sharing a cup of hot cocoa and talking about whatever came to their minds, the two were quite satisfied to spend time with each other and, more importantly, get to know each other.

Their conversations were nothing consequential, usually consisting of old school memories, society gossip, or just odd things about their own lives, but the light-hearted chitchat was enough for both to get a better understanding of the other. With each lazy morning walk, each talk by the fire, and each laughter-filled game they shared, they learnt to appreciate and respect one another. As such, both were quite pleased with their spouse's efforts in trying to make the marriage work and were able to say truthfully by the end of the day that they had enjoyed their time together. This was a feat indeed, as never had Draco or Ginny been able to spend a whole day in each other's company without feeling some resentment. It was a testament of how much their relationship had grown since they had first reconnected again that month and a half ago. There were still the glares, still the teasing and snide remarks, but a smile would often follow not long after, and laughter seemed to be a constant companion to the budding relationship.

Yes, things had indeed changed, and in a way Ginny was almost sad to realise that tomorrow she and Draco would be going back to the real world. Society was so different to this peaceful little cottage. Out there, people would pressure them to conform to what a husband and wife should be, but here there was no one to do that. It was just the two of them, free to do what they like without fear of reprimand.

Her eyes, dark and glowing from the flames dancing in the grate beside her, instinctively turned to Draco. He was frowning down at the chessboard between them, oblivious to her scrutiny. They had managed to find the chessboard in one of the cupboards earlier that morning, so tonight—on their last night together—they played their final game. Ginny was sitting on the chair opposite him, a black fluffy blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and her feet tucked up underneath her to keep warm. Draco had laughed at this earlier, for, though it was quite cold, he did not think that it was necessary to bundle up like a caterpillar. The fire made it warm enough in the room anyway, but for Ginny the issue was not warmth; it was just nice to snuggle up in a blanket from time to time.

The game had been going on for a while now. Remnants of their progress littered their surroundings, with two empty cups of cocoa sitting discarded by the collection of defeated black and white figures, and a small pot of chocolates—now nearly empty—sitting temptingly in the middle of the wounded chess soldiers. Ginny, unable to resist the sweet call of the delectable treats, reached over and popped a chocolate into her mouth, savouring the taste for a moment as she always did when eating her favourite food. Her eyes flickered back to Draco, who was still staring in rapt attention at the chess pieces, and she observed him with some amusement. He certainly took his time in figuring out his next move.

"Come on, Draco," Ginny said teasingly. "Make your move. Or have you finally realised that you can't beat me?"

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He ordered his bishop to take her rook and then lifted his face to meet her stunned gaze. She saw that the infamous Malfoy smirk had replaced his smile.

"You were saying?" he taunted.

Ginny scowled and scanned the chessboard to see if she could repair the damage. If there was one thing she knew about winning chess, it was that almost every time you needed at least one rook and the queen. She now had no rooks, having sacrificed her other earlier, and had not even noticed that his bishop could have taken her surviving one. Of course, if she and Draco had not agreed to silence the shouting chess pieces from barking orders at them, she probably would have realised the danger, but neither Draco nor Ginny were particularly keen on the idea of playing a game of chess while listening to pawns and knights yell at them.

"Don't look too smug," she muttered, still scanning the chess pieces. "You haven't won yet."

"Says the person who has been boasting this whole game every time she wins a piece," Draco said wryly.

Ginny threw a chocolate at him. He jumped in surprise and lifted his gaze to see her smiling impishly at him, another chocolate poised in her hand, ready to be catapulted at his face.

"You were saying?" she questioned in an uncanny impersonation of his voice, and even managed to give an imitation of his very own Malfoy smirk.

He stared at her for a moment and then chuckled in amusement. "Not bad."

She grinned and placed the chocolate back down in the pot. "Why thank you. I did think that I had better start practising my smirk if I want to be a true Malfoy. You are all such accomplished smirkers."

"Smirkers? Is that even a word?"

"I don't know," she confessed with a laugh, "but I guess it is now."

The door opened and Binky shuffled into the room and stoked up the fire. Ginny turned her attention back to the chessboard and made her move while Draco watched the house-elf warily. Once Binky had left again, he stared at Ginny, leaning forward in his chair slightly.

"Do you think she knows we never—you know—" He gestured with his hands in some vague motion, causing Ginny to frown.

"What? Had sex, you mean?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah."

Resisting the urge to laugh, Ginny shrugged. "I don't know, Draco. Unless she stands at our door every night with extendible ears—though those ears of hers are big enough as it is—I don't think she could have known either way, even if we had actually done the act."

And thank goodness they hadn't too. Ginny would not be feeling so relaxed around him if they had, but he seemed to have given up on the matter. Of course, that was probably helped by the fact that Ginny had pretended to be asleep on the second night, and then on the third night she had rolled the other way and claimed she was very tired. Draco, naturally, had not bothered to disturb her, and so both nights they had simply gone to sleep.

Draco still looked a little troubled but nodded his head all the same. "I guess you're right."

Ginny frowned. Something was not right here. He was normally very calm, and even though he had opened up to her a lot over the past few days, he still was not really one to show his emotions. There was something edgy about him now. She knew that something was troubling his mind that she did not know about.

"There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?" she demanded, now watching him with increasing wariness.

He still had not told her about why he had been forced to marry, even though he had promised that he would. She wondered if his current behaviour had something to do with that.

Draco sighed and shook his head. "It's nothing. Let's just continue with the game."

Ginny glared at him, the sudden fierceness in her eyes stopping him from making his next move. "I'm not stupid, Draco." Her gaze found his, commanding him to look at her. "Tell me what's going on. I hate being in the dark like this, and I know that it has something to do with the marriage. You'd might as well just tell me now and get it over with."

Draco dropped his hand from the chessboard and stared at her for a moment, wondering if she really was ready to hear the truth. He had promised he would tell her why his parents wanted him to marry so quickly, but he had hoped to put it off for later when she was more used to the marriage. Perhaps she was right though. Maybe it would be best to just get it over and done with now. Merlin knew he needed the peace of mind. Ever since the wedding he had been wondering how best to broach the topic, but always he would persuade himself against it. When he had promised that he would tell her everything while they had walked to the village, the pressure to confess had only got worse, but still he had managed to put her off. He was worried about how she would react. A part of him did not want to ruin the friendship they were beginning to develop, but he knew that eventually he would have to tell her the truth.

Maybe this was the right time, then. Maybe, now that they were finally getting along, she would be able to understand his position more and would not get so angry. He hoped this would be the case, as the last thing he wanted to deal with were her tantrums and feisty temper. Besides, if he did not tell her now, his father and mother were bound to do it at some point when he was even more unprepared.

Ginny sighed and shifted restlessly. "Please just tell me what's going on," she begged, leaning forward in her chair. "You know I deserve to hear the truth."

He met her beseeching eyes and, not being able to resist that imploring look, nodded his head. "Fine, but you're not going to like it."

She shrugged off his words with a careless wave of her hand. "That's fine. I just want to know what's going on."

Somehow he doubted she would be saying it was fine by the end of this, but there was no going back now. She would only persist in pestering him if he tried to put it off again. In truth, he'd actually been surprised at how patient she had been. He'd always thought her as the nagging type, but not once had she demanded he tell her what was going on. Now, however, it seemed like his time for procrastinating was finally up.

Sucking in a deep breath, Draco met her gaze and decided then and there that he would just be blunt. There was no point skirting around the subject, and he never had been once to mince his words. Besides, he figured it would be easier to just blurt it all out in one go than to painstakingly explain every detail. He wasn't even sure that he would be able to confess everything before he chickened out again, so it was probably safer to just be straight to the point.

He paused for a moment, wondering how best to word what he was trying to say. One of her eyebrows rose at his silence, and Draco shifted uncomfortably and lowered his gaze to his lap.

"The truth is, Ginny," he began calmly, slipping into his impassive persona to hide his nerves, "my father ordered me to marry a woman before the month was out because he seems to think that both he and I will die before I can secure my family's inheritance."

"I don't understand," Ginny replied, brow puckering. "You'll inherit anyway. You're an only child."

He shook his head, still staring at his hands. "It's not me my father is worried about."

"Then who?"

He raised his head, and there was a resigned expression on his face. It was enough to make Ginny's heart flutter with misgiving. Just what was so terrible that it could make him look so grim?

Draco took in a deep breath, holding her gaze. "It's my child."

"Y-you're child?" She blinked and stared at him through wide eyes. "You have a _child_?"

She couldn't believe it! He had a child! Why hadn't he told her this before? And, better yet, if he already had a child, why didn't he just marry the wench that he had got pregnant instead of dragging her into all of this?

Ginny suddenly frowned. Her brain, erratically lost in its own confusing thoughts, had finally stumbled onto one teeny little problem: Draco was a virgin.

The blond in question stared at her in offended disbelief, mixed with some very real exasperation, as if he were wondering how he could have possibly chosen such an idiotic bride.

"I don't have a child," he retorted, causing Ginny to sink back into her chair in relief. "I only meant that my father wants me to have a child so that our line will be secured. At least that's what Father told me. My mother seems to think that he's more concerned with seeing his grandchild before he dies, which is a possibility . . ."

"Wait a minute!" Ginny interrupted, looking wild eyed and frantic. "Just what are you saying?"

Draco sighed. "What I'm saying, Ginny, is I was supposed to find a wife before the month was out, but marriage is only the tip of the iceberg. What my father really cares about is getting a grandchild. He's expecting me to have you pregnant by the next month, and if you don't start showing pregnancy signs in the near future, we'll both be hounded and pressured by my parents until you do. They don't give up, Ginny: they're determined to get their way, even at the expense of everyone else's happiness. That's just the way my parents are. They pretend it's for your own good, sugar-coating it with well-meaning words and good intentions, but in the end they don't care if it hurts you. They just care about their grand scheme, and I—" he laughed bitterly "—I allowed them to trap me into it because I love them anyway."

He broke off and ran a hand through his hair, letting out a deep breath as he did so. Ginny was speechless, still trying to comprehend what she had just heard.

"I'm sorry," he said, meeting her eyes again. "I shouldn't have dragged you into this, but I didn't know what else to do. You can fight it if you want; I will never force you to do anything, I swear, but they will never leave you alone, Ginny. They will never give up."

Ginny's face went suddenly very pale. "I don't believe this," she mumbled, holding a hand to her head.

This was all just too much to take in. Surely this could not be right. Surely there had been some kind of mistake. It was only supposed to be a marriage in name. They were never supposed to have to do _real_ married couples things, but obviously she had been deluding herself. The marriage had been nothing at all to his parents; it was the child she would bear that they cared about. Draco had said it himself: they only cared about their grand scheme.

Her eyes flashed towards him, demanding to know if this was really the truth. His grim expression told her that clearly enough that it was. Ginny let out a groan that sounded halfway between a growl and a sob and stood up from her seat. The blanket slipped off her shoulders so that she was just standing in her white nightdress, and Draco watched as she walked over to the fire and wrung her hands in frustration.

She looked so vulnerable and innocent in that moment, like a sacrificial virgin being burnt as an offering to the cruel gods of men. Her nightdress was long and without adornment, revealing nothing of her body but still portraying the image of a young woman. Her hair, so rich and red, was allowed to hug her waist in soft flaming waves, giving a stark contrast to the snowy cloth that covered her body. Even the pallor of her skin gave the impression of youthful innocence.

Seeing her like that made him feel even more like a villain for dragging her into this, but he knew that he could not change anything now. He could only hope that she would just accept that this was how things would be. He had not lived with his parents his whole life to now underestimate their ability to get their own way. It was a very real fear he felt, and he wished that he could somehow make her understand that. He wasn't trying to hurt her; if anything, he was only trying to protect her.

"I told you that you wouldn't like it," he said quietly, hoping that by breaking the silence he would also rupture the dark mood that had filled the room.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Ginny demanded, spinning around to face him again, her chest heaving with indignation.

Draco stood up and walked towards her, an apologetic expression coming to his face. "I was worried how you would react. I thought that you might do something reckless."

Ginny glared at him. "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, but you do have a habit of being rash when you're angry."

"I'm angry right now!"

"Well, I can't help that. You wanted to know the truth, so I told you the truth."

Her eyes bore furiously into his. Clenching her hands into fists, she closed the distance between them and lifted her hand, giving his cheek a hard slap. Draco flinched but did not retaliate, though she did receive some satisfaction in seeing him flex his jaw to ease the pain.

"And what was that for, may I ask?" he asked calmly, though his eyes smouldered with frustration.

"You know exactly what that was for!" Ginny snapped, glaring up at him through blazing eyes. "You've turned me into some—some breeding vessel for your parents!"

The anger quickly died out of Draco's eyes and was replaced by guilt. "I'm sorry, alright. I never really considered how you would feel about all of this when I got engaged to you. I just didn't think; I was so caught up in my own problems that I guess I just assumed—"

"You assumed what?" Ginny cut in, taking another step towards him so that there was barely an inch between them. "That I would just open my legs to you like some desperate whore and give you a baby without question?"

Draco repressed a sigh. "Don't make this more difficult than what it already is, Ginny."

"Oh, but that was what you were thinking, wasn't it?" she persisted, still glaring up at him. "I bet it didn't even occur to you that I might not want to sleep with you!"

Having had enough of this, and feeling more than a little offended by her words, Draco just threw his hands up in exasperation and stepped away from her. His temper was very much at its limit.

"You're right, Ginny, it didn't. I'm sorry but I was a bit preoccupied at the time with trying to come to terms with things myself. I'm only human, you see, and, yes, I really was that selfish enough to only think of my own predicament over yours."

"You're mocking me," Ginny accused.

"Yes, I am, because you're being stupid!"

"_Stupid_?"

"Yes, stupid! Don't you see that we're both victims here?" He took in a deep breath, grasping at his hair as if he were about to start pulling chunks of it out. "Merlin, Ginny, why do you always have to make things so difficult? We're just going in circles all over again. I swear if it's not blaming me for one thing, you just go and blame me for everything else. I've already told you again and again that I never wanted this. I'm just as trapped as you are, and yelling at me and blaming me for getting you into this mess will not change anything!"

"What am I supposed to do?" she retorted. "Cheer for joy because I've just found out that I'm supposed to be pregnant with your child by next month, which, I will remind you, is only in two and a half weeks away! It's impossible not to be frustrated by all of this."

"As I said, you're not the only one who's annoyed."

Ginny sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted. She sat down on the chair by the fire, feeling her anger die down. It was difficult to ignore the sense of his words, and she also felt a little guilty for blowing up at him after they had been doing so well to avoid conflict over the past few days. She could not stay angry with him like she used to, but to say that she was happy about her current situation would be a lie. Even now she felt just a little resentful.

"Okay, so maybe I am being a bit unreasonable here," Ginny allowed, "but honestly, Draco, why didn't you just pick a girl who actually wanted to sleep with you? Surely you must have realised—even with all your selfish little thoughts—that I was in love with another man, and therefore highly unlikely to be receptive towards you any time soon?"

Draco shrugged and dropped down next to her on the seat, feeling rather deflated himself. Arguing with Ginny was hard work, but she seemed to have calmed down somewhat.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said, thinking about why he had chosen her over all the other women.

"Why not? It can't be any more fantastical than your parents wanting you to have kiddies with me by the time you're twenty-one."

He smiled in spite of himself and turned his face towards hers. "Well, even though I disliked you and almost always argued with you, I realised that you were the only woman who did not bore me to death. It's not much, and I doubt it will make you feel any better, but I guess I'd just rather spend my marriage arguing with someone than yawning every time she spoke."

"Gee, I'm honoured," Ginny remarked, unable to repress a smile. "But you must realise that it would have been so much easier for you if you had actually gone with one of those women. I have no doubt that any one of them would have been eager to give you a child."

Draco shrugged again. "There are worse things than dealing with you not wanting to have sex with me. Can you imagine what it would be like living the rest of your life with Daphne or, even worse, Celestia?"

Ginny had to admit that he had a point. "I guess that would be worse," she agreed.

He leaned back against the chair and let out a deep breath. "In any case, we need to figure out what we're going to do now. Tomorrow we go back to the manor and I have no doubt that my father will demand to see you. Whether you want to obey his wishes or not, we cannot let him know that we've not even consummated our marriage yet. That goes for my mother too. I think it's best if we just keep this to ourselves."

Ginny nodded. "Okay."

Though not a person who enjoyed lying, she did see his logic. There would be no point in setting up his parents' backs by telling them that she and Draco had not even had sex yet. If Narcissa and Lucius truly wanted a grandchild so desperately, it was best that they think that everything had gone smoothly.

"I guess that's it then," he said tiredly, staring down at his hands.

They both fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts, and remained so for some time. Draco absently rubbed his cheek where Ginny had slapped him and then let his hand drop back to his lap. Ginny, having caught the movement out the corner of her eye, stared up at him guiltily, feeling more than a little bad for taking all her anger out on him. Even now she could still see the pink mark where her hand had collided with his cheek and only hoped that it was just because his skin was so pale rather than because of the force of her blow.

Not really realising what she was doing, Ginny reached out and gently let her fingers glide over the mark on his skin. Draco flinched in surprise and stared down at her in sudden unease. He did not like to be touched, especially by her.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, his heart quickening in his chest upon realising just how close she was. He could almost count every freckle on her face from this position. It was very disconcerting.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, staring up at him through remorseful dark eyes, her fingers still stroking his cheek.

Draco had to fight against the urge to close his eyes and wondered how it was that she could have such an affect over him. Her touch was so soft, so strangely tender. It made him feel like all his cares could slip away with each delicate stroke, yet it made him feel almost frightened as well. She had laughed with him, joked with him, but she had never looked upon him with such warm emotion, nor touched him with such gentleness. It was too strange, and he wasn't sure that he liked the way it made him feel.

Swallowing uncomfortably, he shook his head, breaking the contact with her hand. "I'm fine."

Unperturbed by his sudden distance, Ginny shuffled closer to him and placed a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry I hit you. I didn't mean to, but I was just so upset."

He glanced down at her hand on his arm, then lifted his eyes to hers, an unreadable expression on his face.

Ginny's brow creased, and she cautiously pulled her hand away from his arm. "Is something wrong? You seem . . . angry."

Angry? No, he was just trying to pull himself together. He didn't know what had come over him, but his body seemed to have taken on a mind of its own. Every sense had heightened at the trigger of her touch until he had felt lost in her very being, and even now he was finding it difficult to control himself. Her face, still so close to his, was the picture of innocent seduction, and almost helplessly he found his eyes dropping to trace the outline of her body, fascinated by the way her breasts rose and fell with each breath she took. He doubted she even realised how frustratingly alluring she looked just now, which only made him feel even more attracted to her. He really could not win.

Of course, he blamed her for this sudden shift from reason to madness. If she had just stayed away from him; if she just had kept those delicate fingers to herself and had not looked at him with such mesmerising eyes, he was sure that he would not be feeling so dangerously drawn to her right now. He was only human, and even he felt the very real feelings that men do when faced with such a predicament. She was a beautiful woman whom he knew he was attracted to, but if there was ever a worse time to start having such feelings, this was it.

"Draco?"

Snapped from his thoughts, he managed to force a small smile onto his lips and could only hope that she had not caught him staring his fill at her. He really would deserve a slap then.

"Nothing is wrong, Ginny. I swear."

She stared at him a little sceptically, but nodded her head all the same. "Okay. Well, we still need to figure out what we're going to do about your father's wish for a grandchild. I'll be honest with you, I don't want to sleep with you." Her face scrunched into an expression of distaste. "It would just be weird."

The images that immediately came to Draco's mind were anything but weird in his opinion, yet they certainly made him less than comfortable. He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her—making sure that his eyes remained only on her face.

"What do we do, then? You know that my parents will still expect a child."

Ginny shrugged, oblivious to the moral dilemma happening in her husband's mind. "Well, maybe if we just make them think that we're trying to have a child, they'll not be so pushy."

He frowned. That could work, he supposed. It wasn't as if people could guarantee that they would get pregnant straight away. His own parents took years to produce a child, so it would not seem that out of the blue if he and Ginny took a while to conceive. Besides, he was just as reluctant to sleep with her, though with the spectacle he had just made of himself, one did have to wonder . . .

"Draco?"

"What?" he said, shaken from his musings. "Oh, right. I think it's worth a try. If not, it'll at least give us some time to figure things out."

She smiled, glad that he was agreeing to her plan so easily. "Then that's settled?"

He nodded.

Ginny relaxed against the seat, feeling rather relieved that they had managed to get that out of the way. When he had first disclosed the truth to her, she had been worried that he was going to suddenly demand that she sleep with him, but, thankfully, he had been willing to negotiate with her. She knew, of course, that it was only delaying the inevitable, as she did realise that Draco was probably right in saying that his parents would not give up, but she was only human, and putting it off, even for a little while, still gave her some relief.

It wasn't that she was not attracted to Draco, for she did know that she found him physically appealing, but she still couldn't bring herself to be intimate with him. It just seemed wrong in so many ways, but even more important was the fact that she was terrified of what it would mean if she did. It was like crossing the final boundary into dangerous waters, and Ginny was not sure that she was ready for that.

She glanced back at Draco, watching him for a moment as he stared at the fire. Things were not as awkward as they could have been, but she was very conscious of the fact they both knew his parents were expecting them to have a child together before the next month. Suddenly, her sense of the ridiculous got the better of her and she let out a small chuckle.

Draco looked down at her in surprise, wondering what could possibly be so funny. He certainly found nothing to be amused about, but then he had just been dealt the frustrating blow of finding his wife sexually pleasing to his eye and was unable to do anything about it.

"What?" he questioned, feeling confused and just a little resentful.

Damn her for looking so good in that nightdress, not that he knew why she did anyway. The thing could have been a tent and yet he still felt drawn to her. The only other times he had felt such a dangerous pull towards her was when he had caught her naked in the stream—which was understandable—and when he had nearly kissed her in her room. He supposed it was just a consequence from being stuck in such close proximity with her all the time, but he did find it rather frustrating all the same, not to mention worrying.

Ginny, still oblivious to his thoughts, merely shrugged. "I don't know. I just can't help but feel that this whole situation is absurd. How can I not laugh when I know that I'm supposed to be bearing your child by next month?"

"Well, at least you're laughing and not yelling," he muttered, relaxing a bit. It also helped he had finally got his hormones back under control.

Ginny's lips twitched. "It could have been worse, you know. I could have gone into hysterics, and then what would you have done?"

"Probably cast a Silencing Charm on you."

She laughed in appreciation. "Good thing I didn't do that then, or I think I might just have done more than slap you."

"I guess."

She grinned and then, out of the corner of her eye, spotted the chessboard still waiting for them to finish their game. Standing up, she walked a little away and then cast an arched look back at him from under her lashes.

"Come on, then," she said tauntingly. "Don't think that this is going to stop me from whipping your pasty butt at chess. I am determined to beat you."

Draco raised an eyebrow, forgetting his previous moral dilemma in the wake of having such a vulgar insult thrown at him. "Really? Well, I'll have you know that this pasty wizard does not lose at chess."

"You'd better get your tissues ready because I'm not planning on losing," Ginny retorted with a cheeky grin.

He laughed and then followed her to the table, once again taking his seat opposite her. A quick argument started on whose turn it was, and then, having decided that it was Draco's, the game continued as if nothing had happened to spoil it in the first place.

**OOOO**

Later that night Draco lay next to Ginny in the bed, a frown marring his brow as he stared at the ceiling above him. The chess game, which he had won, had managed to put some sense into his brain, but he could not help but worry that perhaps the damage had already been done. She was an attractive woman, there was no doubt about it, and it was only natural that eventually he should start to feel physically drawn to her, as any man would. It did create a problem, though, as Ginny had already made it clear that intimacy was off the menu, and the last thing he needed was to ruin her trust by doing something stupid.

Sighing, and rolling onto his side, Draco glared into the darkness of the room. He knew that he didn't want to feel these feelings, but he just couldn't help it. Getting to know her was only making his resolution fail, as the more he stopped hating her the more he found her attractive, and that, of course, only led him to start thinking of her in a more sexualised way. It was very disquieting for him, but she seemed to be completely oblivious and just continued on in her merry way: touching him and smiling at him, and wearing clothes that accentuated her body—not that the tent nightdress really had.

Damn females. He was almost at the point of believing that she was doing it on purpose just to punish him. He wouldn't put it past her. She did delight in making him uncomfortable, and she always had been the vengeful type.

Ginny let out a soft noise in her sleep and rolled over his way, her body just lightly coming to rest up against his. Draco froze, panic rising up inside him. Of course she would do this just when he was having self-control issues. It really was just his luck.

With his heart drumming in his chest, Draco slowly eased himself away from her and shuffled over to the safer edge of the bed. This was going to be a long night, and he had a horrible feeling that this was only the beginning of his frustrations.


	18. Back to the Manor

**Back to the Manor**

The next day saw the end of Draco and Ginny's stay at the picturesque cottage. It was still in the early morning hours and the birds had just started up their greetings. The trees whispered in the cool autumn breeze, shaking off their leaves with each breath they took, and up in the still veiled sky the sun peeped out through the fog like a lighthouse to signal the coming dawn. It was a lovely sight to behold, but for Ginny it only made parting with the cottage that much harder. For all her courage and resolution, she was afraid of what lay ahead and wished rather fruitlessly that time would stand still so that she would never have to leave.

Ginny sighed as she sat on one of the stone steps that led up to the cottage, idly tracing the cracks on the step with her finger. The myriad of crevices reminded her of a spider's web, stretching out further and further in tiny threads to form intricate patterns against the blank canvas of stone. It was ironic in a way, as she too felt like she was caught in a spider's web, trapped in a situation she could not escape from but could only prolong the inevitable by twisting and fighting against the threads that held her down.

Things were not so bad, though. Even with the knowledge that she had gained from last night, she still knew that matters could have been much worse. Marriages such as hers very rarely began or ended happily, and though she and Draco had faced rocky beginnings, he had made an effort—even when she was being irrational and had taken to screeching at him—to prove to her that he would never force her to do anything she did not wish to do. It was amazing how much patience he had shown her, for Ginny knew that she did not deserve half of it with the way she had been treating him, and she was quite certain that Draco Malfoy was not a naturally patient man.

Really, Ginny had to give him a lot of credit for the way he had behaved towards her over the past three days. She had tested his temper in every possible way, and only a few times had he actually lost it. She, on the other hand, had let her volatile temper get the best of her far too often. Even now she felt the sickening guilt of knowing that she had hit him, and she cringed at the thought of all the things she had accused him of with her thoughtless tongue. It wasn't fair on him at all, and Ginny desperately wanted to make it up to him somehow. She knew he deserved so much more from her, especially since he had agreed to let her wait until she was ready to have a child. It was obvious that he would have preferred to get it out of the way before his parents could start causing problems.

Frowning, Ginny stopped her tracing of the spider web cracks and stared down at her knees in thought. What could she do to prove to Draco that she was not angry with him for marrying her? This was her last chance to get the slate clean before they had to leave, and though last night's chess game had lightened the mood somewhat, she still felt like she needed to do more—to prove that she did appreciate him. They had become increasingly friendly towards each other, but she had never actually told him what he meant to her.

Normally she would feel no qualms in doing such a thing, but this was Draco Malfoy. Even his name made things difficult, but Ginny knew that she had to be brave. She could not let his reserved nature stop her from being open with him. She needed him to understand how much she appreciated and needed him, for she had come to realise that she would indeed need his protection once they left this cottage. That was, after all, why she had been sitting out here all alone on the cold step, looking as miserable as Daphne Greengrass on a bad hair day.

It all came back to society. Ginny knew that there would be no mercy for her from the critics. As soon as she and Draco re-entered the world of pureblood society they would come under scrutiny from every haughty eye, and then the gossip war would begin. Nobody in society liked to hear about a happy marriage: there had to be sordid secrets, dodgy relatives that could pose a threat to credibility, and, of course, arguments. Ginny knew that she would be seen as the root of all the problems in the marriage, as she already had her fair share of secrets, had no connections, and had started more than one fight with her husband. The very fact that she had married a Malfoy meant that she would come under extra scrutiny and judgement, as people would always be watching to see how worthy she was to be the wife of the darling of society.

Ginny would only be human to feel just a little anxious. How could she not knowing that she was essentially being thrown to the wolves? She was strong, but she did not think that she could do this alone. She was not like Narcissa; she could not become that statue of unfeeling haughtiness to protect her heart. She was just poor, simple Ginny, and even she had to admit in her more honest moments that she felt intimidated. Under all her brave fronts and blunt words, Ginny was indeed just as human as anyone else. She too had felt pinned on the wall like a helpless insect, left to wriggle and writhe under the cruel, unfeeling eyes of society. She too had felt her pride crumble under the tinkling laughter of beautiful women, forcing her to flee to take refuge in tears so that she did not break before them. Her confidence had been shattered more than once by a snide remark—though she had done her best to hide it—and she would be lying if she said that she did not care what others thought of her.

Of course, Ginny knew that she did have the choice of conforming to society, but she did not want that. She just wished that she could be accepted for her own merits rather than having to become an archetypal society woman who simpered and smiled, fluttering her fan to hide the hollowness behind a mask of beauty. The world, however, did not work that way, and even if she did conform to the societal ideal of what a woman should be, she would still be mocked for her low connections and parentage. That was why she needed Draco. She needed his support and protection; she needed someone to keep her strong, for she knew that her battles with the haughty harpies were far from over.

Ginny glanced out towards the moth-eaten lavender fields, watching the flowers sway to and fro in a lazy waltz with the wind. What she wouldn't give to just stay here in this sleepy sanctuary where everything was so peaceful: away from all the pettiness of society, away from all the ridiculous demands placed on her. She could just be herself here, and no one would expect anything more or less.

Footsteps came towards her, pausing at the top of the steps. Ginny could feel Draco's shadow blocking the sun, but she did not turn to face him.

"I was wondering where you had ran off to," he remarked, walking down the last few steps so that he was standing next to her.

Ginny smiled a little sadly and hugged her knees to her chest, still staring out into the fields that were splashed with purple. "I was just enjoying the view. It'll probably be the last time I get to see it."

Draco sat down next to her on the step. "We can always come back here again. It's not going anywhere."

She met his steely eyes, and the fragments of a genuine smile collected on her lips. "I'd like that."

He merely nodded and then gazed out towards where she had previously been looking, falling into his usual reflective silence. She had come to realise that he did this a lot, and he would always get that same little frown on his mouth, with a faint few creases gathering on his brow.

It was funny, really. She had always thought him so unemotional and aloof from everything, but being in his company for three days had made her realise that he was actually quite expressive, if one cared to look closely enough. He never flaunted his feelings as she did—unless he was really angry or distressed—but there were times, like now, when his face would subtly reveal a little of what he was thinking. It was never enough to give her a clear picture, and she still did find him frustratingly unreadable, but it was still enough for her to gather a little of what was going on in that uncommunicative head of his.

Right now Ginny could tell that he was thinking deeply over something that troubled him. She had no idea what that something was, but it was comforting to know that she was not the only one feeling bothered by unsettling thoughts. Of course, this inevitably brought her back to her own problems.

Unable to suppress a sigh, Ginny leaned her chin on her knees and stared down at the ground. This was her last chance. If she wanted to make a clean slate with him and get what she was feeling out in the open, she needed to do it now. She could not live with herself if she allowed him to think that she still blamed him for the mess they were in, and she still felt like she needed to show him how much she appreciated everything he had done for her over the past three days. She just needed to be brave and tell him.

Taking in a small breath, Ginny looked back at her husband. "Draco?"

Shaken from his thoughts, he turned towards her with a questioning gleam in his eyes. "Yes?"

Ginny moistened her lips and felt her resolve waver. This had seemed so much easier to do when she had been brooding over it in her melancholic state, but now that she was actually facing him, Ginny realised that it was not easy at all. What if he laughed at her? What if she had been wrong about him and he was still just the mean and conceited man she had first hated? And why in Merlin's name was it so difficult just to say thank you to him, anyway?

Maybe it was because she felt that a simple 'thank you' wouldn't cut it. Nothing seemed to quite cut it with him—not that she knew what he thought about the matter. She just felt this unspoken pressure to do more for him than what she normally would, yet at the same she could not treat him with the same causal affection as she would one of her friends. If he were Harry or Hermione, she would simply give him a hug and a thank you and that would be the end of it, but Draco was not one of her friends, and giving him hugs was incredibly awkward. She just didn't know how to express herself around him.

"Is something wrong?" Draco asked, looking puzzled.

Ginny opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. He could see her struggling to find the words to voice her feelings, but then she seemed to give up and instead leaned towards him and gave him a kiss on his cheek. The effect was instant. Immediately Draco felt a pleasant warmth settle in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with the heat of the day and everything to do with the chaste kiss he had just received; however, he was far too surprised by her sudden display of affection to do anything more than sit there frozen in shock. Was it possible that she had just kissed him on the cheek, or was he simply dreaming this strange, practically impossible event?

She pulled herself away and stared down at her lap, looking more than a little shy and embarrassed. Her cheeks were tinged with pink, and she tentatively glanced back at him to glean his reaction.

"What was that for?" he asked in a confused voice, not really sure why she had kissed him on the cheek and still feeling a little dazed at the thought that she had. Even now he could feel the warm imprint of her lips against his skin, and he absently placed his fingers on the spot where she had kissed him, a crease of puzzlement gathering on his brow.

Ginny dropped her gaze back to her hands and started playing with her nails. "I just—you know—wanted to thank you for being so nice to me. I know I've been acting like an idiot, and I, um—well, I guess I just wanted to let you know that I am grateful for everything, and, um, I don't hate you for marrying me."

She stole another look up at him while she twisted her dress in her hands on her lap, looking so much like a puppy waiting to see if it would get a treat or not that it made his heart tug with some foreign emotion he could not quite place. It was all rather unnerving, as that normally unresponsive organ was being quite active of late.

"I just thought you should know before we leave this place," she continued with a shrug, still looking a little self-conscious and not quite able to meet his eyes. "I didn't know if I would get another chance."

Draco knew that he should say something, but in truth he was not sure what to say. He never had been the most eloquent fellow around women, and Ginny had made him quite speechless. It had just been so unexpected. One moment they were just sitting there and then all of a sudden she was kissing him on the cheek and thanking him for being nice!

What was all that about, anyway? She wasn't supposed to do things like that. She was supposed to yell at him or joke with him, not go all serious and give him thank you kisses because he wasn't acting like a complete monster towards her. It was just too confusing and too—too sweet! It made him feel weird, though in a good way, but even the very fact that the feelings were pleasant was frightening in itself. He didn't like it at all because, damn it, Malfoys were above such mundane things as that, and it just didn't seem right that she should be able to influence his emotions so greatly by such a simple thing as a kiss on the cheek. The damn hug had been enough, but this—this was just crossing the boundary even more.

He could see her watching him, waiting to see what he would say in response, but he was still as stumped as ever. Damn her for putting him in this situation. Didn't she understand that he was not good with things like this? Warm feelings and hallmark moments just made him feel awkward and out of place. Sure it was nice to be appreciated, but couldn't she have found a less cute way to express her thanks, even if only to save him from feeling so horrendously tongue-tied?

Ginny brushed the hair out of her eyes and looked down at her lap in disappointment. His continued silence was making her feel foolish and more than a little regretful that she had been so open with him. She wished now that she had just kept her feelings to herself and had the sense not to kiss him on the cheek, but, as usual, she had been too impulsive.

It was always this way with her. She was far too open with her heart for her own good. Whether it was love or friendship, Ginny gave her all. She didn't know how to hold back and wait for the right moment but rushed right on in and laid all her cards on the table, too naïve to realise that it was not always practical to do so and too trusting to believe that she might get hurt. Hurt she did get though, and her foolish romance with Julian was a testament to that. It was what made her so vulnerable to the world. She was just too passionate and open, and now her sincerity and honesty had got her hurt again.

"I'm sorry," she managed to mutter in a strangled voice. "You probably think I'm so stupid."

Not even waiting for him to reply, Ginny stood up and started blindly walking towards the lavender fields. She didn't really care where she was going as long as it was far away from him. Her mortification at finding herself the object of his scrutiny was more than enough to make her feel the complete ridiculousness of her situation. Her abrupt movement seemed to trigger something in Draco, however, and suddenly he was on his feet and rushing after her.

"Wait!"

Ginny stopped and slowly turned to face him, her hair blowing in the wind and tangling in loose, fiery strands around her face. She truly had not been expecting him to come after her and felt her own heart flutter with hope at the thought that maybe he had not been laughing at her after all. Why else would he follow her?

Draco stopped in front of her and scratched the back of his head, looking awkward and restless in his tongue-tied state, and still not really knowing what to say or even why he had followed her. His body seemed to have seized control and had then forced him to run after her, but now his sudden burst of inspiration was gone and he was just left there feeling stupid.

"I, um . . ." He frowned and trailed off, looking away from her as he tried to find some way to let her understand what he was feeling. It was proving to be difficult. "I'm not good at expressing my feelings," he said finally, shifting his eyes back to hers and running an agitated hand through his hair. "I just—I'm not like you. It's hard for me, and I just—" He broke off again, scrunching up his face at how impossible it was to articulate his feelings.

"You just what?" Ginny prompted, her eyes going wide at seeing this new side of him.

He always seemed so calm and collected, and even when he got angry with her it was never in this agitated, uncomfortable state. It was strange how different he appeared to her in that moment. He was no longer the arrogant, snooty boy who had teased her when she was young and irritated her now with his cold aloofness. He was just so human, so utterly exposed in his inability to express himself. There were no protective defences, no reserved blinds to hide his emotions—it was all bare for her to see, and Ginny suddenly realised that she was seeing the real Draco Malfoy. This bumbling young man was the real face that lay beneath the mask of bored politeness, though she was shrewd enough to realise that his other, more arrogant, persona was just as much a part of him.

Taking a step towards him, Ginny looked up into his face. "You just what, Draco?" she repeated, desperately seeking for some reassurance to soothe her wounded sensibilities.

If he could just say something—anything—to help her not feel so ridiculous for thanking him . . .

"I just didn't know what to say," he confessed, meeting her gaze frankly for the first time since she had kissed his cheek. "It was just so unexpected, and I guess I just—" he paused and looked down at his feet in sudden embarrassment. "I guess I just froze."

"Oh."

She turned away, cheeks warming with embarrassment. Now she felt even stupider. He had not been laughing at her and she had gone and jumped to conclusions like she always did and had made a complete fool of herself. Life was just perfect like that.

Draco exhaled loudly, oblivious to her thoughts. "I know I'm not like Julian or Armand, or anyone else who can just say what they're feeling. But I guess what I'm trying to say is that just because I didn't say anything before doesn't mean that I didn't appreciate your thanks."

Her eyes darted back to his in surprise, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.

"I know it's not much," he continued, "but I—"

Ginny shook her head. "No, it's more than enough." Her face broke into a warm smile, and she instinctively reached out and clasped his hand in hers. "Thank you."

"It's okay." He frowned suddenly and then looked at her a little warily. "You're not going to kiss me again, are you?"

Ginny couldn't help but laugh, though her cheeks went pink. "No, Draco, I am not going to kiss you. Though you'd think that, being a guy, you wouldn't mind a kiss or two."

"It's not that I mind," Draco responded without thinking, and then promptly clamped his mouth shut.

"Oh?" Ginny queried, now looking at him curiously.

Draco said nothing. He hoped that she would just drop the subject.

Seeming to sense that her husband's phase in being open had well and truly drawn to a close, Ginny decided to let that one pass, though she did wonder what he had meant by that. He seemed to be implying that he didn't mind her kiss, even if it was just on the cheek, yet he seemed very reluctant for her to repeat the process. How very odd to be sure.

"I suppose we should head back soon, right?" she asked, changing the subject. "Isn't your mother expecting us early?"

He nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "She did say that we should try and come back relatively early. I think my father wants to meet you."

Ginny's stomach gave a sickening twist. "I see," was all she managed to say.

It was an understatement to say that Ginny was feeling nervous about meeting Draco's father. The Malfoys hated the Weasleys, and though Narcissa seemed to have moved on from the hundred-year-old feud, she doubted that Lucius Malfoy would be as forgiving. Not only that, but just from what Draco had said about his father, Lucius Malfoy seemed to be a rather demanding and menacing figure, who held the reins over his family with an iron fist and would stop at nothing to get his own way. Of course, it didn't help that the closest she had come to the man was when he had placed a magical diary in her cauldron nearly eight years ago, and what a disaster that had been.

Still, Ginny was not a person who held grudges, despite her behaviour as of late, and she did want to give her father-in-law the benefit of doubt. After all, if he could change sides during the war when Voldemort had been winning, it was possible that he was not as black as she had painted him. Surely there had to be some good in him, even if he still seemed scary and made her knees go just a little weak—and not in the good way. Not that she would admit that to anybody. A true Gryffindor never admitted to being frightened.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked, frowning down at her.

Ginny nodded and plastered a bright smile on her face. "Yes, I'm fine!"

If her response seemed unnatural, Draco decided to ignore it.

"Okay," he said. "Well, can I have my hand back now?"

Ginny blinked, not quite sure what he was talking about. He gestured with his head down at the hand she still had clutched tightly around his.

"Sorry," Ginny muttered, blushing furiously and releasing his hand. She hadn't even realised she was still holding it.

"It's fine," Draco replied, and then looked back at the house. "We should probably go now. Binky looks like she is calling us."

Ginny followed his gaze and saw the elf waving at them from the steps. "You're right."

She took one last look at the pretty scene behind her, silently saying goodbye to the old smiling trees with their balding heads of red and brown, as well as the moth-eaten fields of lavender. It was time to move on, no matter how unwilling she was to leave this place.

Her gaze flickered back to Draco. He was watching her, looking as handsome as ever in the early morning sun. His eyes seemed less piercing at that moment, becoming that beautiful, stormy grey she loved, and even his face seemed less harsh to look upon. Perhaps it was a trick with the light, or maybe it was just that her feelings had softened drastically towards him. She didn't know, and in a way she didn't care. All that mattered in that split-second was that she knew he would always take care of her.

"I'm ready," Ginny said firmly.

Draco nodded and guided her back to the house. Her bags, as well as Draco's, were already waiting for her in the middle of the entrance hall, which she assumed Binky must have brought down for them while they had been outside.

"I'll just get the Portkey ready," Draco muttered.

He walked off with his wand, no doubt to go and find an object to transfigure into a Portkey. Ginny was glad that he had not asked her. Truth be told, she was a bit rusty with her magic.

She glanced about the entrance hall, admiring the cosy walls surrounding her. She truly was sad to leave this place—especially since she knew that she would be living at Malfoy manor until she and Draco could sort out their own home—but she supposed it wouldn't be all that bad. At least she hoped not anyway.

Draco came back into the entrance hall, and she could see that he was holding a fork. "Ready?"

Ginny nodded.

Binky gave them her usual toothy grin and curtsied low to the floor. "Goodbye, Master and Mistress. Binky hopes you will visit again soon."

Draco made a noncommittal sound at the back of his throat, but Ginny, feeling obliged to thank the elf on behalf of the both of them, gave Binky a kind smile.

"Thank you, Binky," she said, inclining her head to the creature. "I'm sure that Draco and I will visit again."

The elf grinned and then all too soon Draco was telling her that the Portkey was ready. Ginny placed her finger on the fork, felt the familiar pull at her navel, and then the cottage and Binky vanished; the imposing entrance hall of Malfoy manor appeared before her eyes. She let go of the fork and let out a small breath. Her belongings appeared next to her with a thump, as did Draco's.

"And now we're back again," Ginny muttered.

A door opened from the second floor, and Ginny looked up to see Narcissa coming swiftly down the stairs. The blonde ordered Serino the house-elf to take their bags to their room, and then smiled composedly at the both of them.

"Welcome back," Narcissa greeted. "I hope you enjoyed your honeymoon."

Draco and Ginny exchanged a quick, amused glance, but neither gave the impression that not all had been well or gone to Narcissa's plans.

"It was fine," Ginny answered for the both of them.

Narcissa nodded. "I'm glad." She turned her attention to Ginny. "Lucius desires an audience with the both of you. He's particularly interested to meet you, Ginevra."

Ginny felt her knees weaken just a little bit more. "Oh," she managed to get out, feeling her stomach start wriggling again like there were snakes sliding about inside her.

"Does he wish to see us now?" Draco asked with a frown.

"Yes. To put it off any longer will only set up his back. You know that, Draco."

He sighed in defeat. "I suppose."

Ginny didn't quite understand, but it seemed to her that Draco had just as little wish to see his father as she did. That was not comforting, as she assumed it was her fault.

"Come along then," Narcissa said briskly. "It is best not to keep him waiting."

Sighing, Ginny watched Narcissa head back up the stairs before forcing her body to follow. Draco was walking next to her, but he said nothing to ease her fears. If anything, he seemed just as troubled.

They passed through the doors to the second floor and then headed down the richly decorated corridor, though much of the splendour past unnoticed to Ginny's eyes. She was far too worried about the looming meeting with Draco's father.

"Now, Ginevra, there are some rules that you must follow when talking to my husband," Narcissa began, casting her eyes back towards Ginny.

Ginny blinked. "R-rules?"

"As you know, my husband is in a very delicate position at the moment, and it is best not to provoke him. As such, you should never talk while he is talking. Do not argue with him. Do not laugh at him. Do not smile too much . . ."

The list went on, and Ginny began to feel even more anxious with each rule Narcissa droned out in her cool voice. At this rate the redhead doubted she would be able to do anything, and she was beginning to worry that she might kill him if she even breathed.

Trying not to trip over her skirts as she hurried down the corridor, Ginny glanced worriedly up at her husband, who didn't seem bothered at all by the long recital of rules.

"Are all of these rules really necessary?" she asked. "Surely your father can't be _that_ bad?"

Draco gave a wry smile. "My mother is just paranoid. She's worried that he will have a stroke again, so she tries to limit the amount of excitement he can receive by keeping him in good humour—hence the rules. I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. My father is impossible to please, so even you did follow all the rules to a T, he would still end up in a black mood simply because you tried to keep him in a good mood."

"Well, that's comforting," Ginny muttered.

Not only was Lucius a family tyrant, but he seemed to delight in being difficult. She just knew that this interview was not going to go well.

They passed through another set of doors and then finally came to the East Wing. Ginny had not been in this part of the manor before and allowed her eyes to take in all its cold splendour, with its chandeliers, archaic suits of armour, and ornate paintings and portraits hanging imposingly on the walls. She wondered how it was that the Malfoys ever managed to be comfortable in this grand old manor, but then she supposed that they, unlike her, were just used to it.

Narcissa stopped outside one of the heavy wooden doors and turned back to face them, her expression as collected as always. "I must leave you two now. I have other matters to which I must attend, but remember—" her blue eyes narrowed on Ginny "—whatever you do, do not provoke him."

Ginny looked up at Narcissa in a sudden fit of panic. "Aren't you coming too?"

"My husband does not bite, Ginevra. You will be fine."

Narcissa smiled coolly at the both of them and then continued down the hall and out of Ginny's sight. Feeling her stomach clench up even more, Ginny could only swallow hard against her nerves and look back at the wooden door, which had suddenly become very intimidating. She was half expecting a snarling face to appear on the gold doorknob.

Instinctively, Ginny reached out and grasped Draco's hand, not even caring if it made her look weak. He glanced down at her but decided not to say anything on the matter and reached out with his free hand to open the door. Ginny's grip tightened on his hand and she let out a sharp breath.

"You'll be fine," he murmured, and then steered her into the room.

With bated breath, Ginny found herself walking into Lucius Malfoy's bedroom. Her stomach twisted and turned so unpleasantly that she felt like she was going to be sick. The very air lingered with that horribly tense feeling sickrooms always held, and Ginny had to try hard not to shiver in unease. Her eyes roamed the dimly lit room, taking note of such trivial things as a dresser and a large, ornate mirror, and then her gaze fell on the man himself.

She had seen Lucius Malfoy only a handful of times, and every one of those times he had seemed like some smoothed-tongue snake, oozing with power, wealth and maliciousness. He had been a monster to her in her youth, and so right now she was feeling rather stunned to say the least by his change in appearance. He was sitting upright in his bed and watching her through piercing grey eyes that were rather a lot like his son's, which was nothing out of the ordinary to be sure, but she did have to stare at the red nightcap on his head. He was also wearing a white nightshirt, with his blankets tucked up cosily around his waist. Though his eyes were still just as frightening as they always had been, the expression that surrounded them was a little too crotchety to be frightening.

Unknowingly her body relaxed and the grip she had on Draco's hand eased a little.

Lucius eyed their intertwined hands through narrowed eyes and then allowed his gaze to fall back on Ginny. His lip curled in distaste. "So you're the bint my son married."

It was not a question and Ginny did not see fit to reply to it, though she did have some objections to being called a bint.

"A Weasley, aren't you?"

Ginny nodded.

Lucius scrunched up his face in pain, as if he had just swallowed something particularly nasty. His sensibilities seemed to have been severely wounded at the thought of his son marrying a Weasley.

Draco, who was more offended by his father's words than Ginny had been, took a small step forward. "Father, I—"

Lucius held up a hand to silence his son—who scowled irritably—and then turned his piercing eyes back to Ginny. "Well, come here then, girl! Let me have a look at you."

Despite the commanding tone in his voice, his whole demeanour seemed to suggest that he would rather her have been a thousand feet away. His nose was upturned haughtily, and his thin lips were curved down into a sneer. Not a very welcoming expression to be sure.

Ginny glanced hesitantly up at Draco, who nodded for her to just do what his father said. Sucking in a small breath of courage, she let go of Draco's hand and walked closer to the bed. She noticed that Lucius looked a lot more haggard from this vantage point, with dark rings shadowing his eyes, and she felt just a little sorry for him in that moment. He had been so powerful once, and now here he was reduced to lying in his bed in a nightshirt and nightcap, and Merlin knew what else he got up to. His life had certainly changed for the worse.

Lucius stared up at her calculatingly, occasionally making a displeased noise at the back of his throat. Ginny began to feel distinctly uncomfortable and wondered what it was he was assessing her so unfavourably for.

"Too much like a Weasley," he muttered, giving another of his pained expressions.

He waved his hand at her, and taking that as a hint to put more distance between them, Ginny moved back to her position next to Draco. She was not too offended by his disapproval of her looks, knowing that she did look like a Weasley, but she did think that he didn't have to make his dislike of her so obvious. Hadn't he heard of being polite for the sheer sake of being polite?

Lucius shifted his eyes back to his son and scowled darkly. "I suppose this is your idea of revenge, is it? I tell you to find a wife, so you choose the one girl who you knew I would never want you to marry just to spite me! Now any children you have are going to look like damn Weasleys!"

A bit of spit flew out of his mouth and landed on the bed. Neither Draco nor Ginny were brave enough to comment on it, though Ginny did have to place a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. It was too hard for her to be angry with Draco's father when he was looking so ridiculous, otherwise she might very well have taken offence at his words. Draco, on the other hand, was not impressed by his father's behaviour, and Ginny could see his jaw tightening in suppressed frustration.

"If that is what you wish to believe, Father," Draco answered politely, though his eyes smouldered with anger. "But I did not choose her just to spite you."

Lucius let out a bark of laughter. "Of course you did. Why else would you choose her?" He looked back at Ginny and curled his lip in disdain. "She's no beauty, probably is as stupid as all those other brainless Weasley brats, and I can guarantee you that in twenty years she will be as fat as her shrew of a mother."

Ginny really did get offended at that, and was all ready to defend her beauty, body and her brains, when Draco took a step forward and glared coldly down at his father.

"That is my wife you are talking about, and I will not have her spoken of in that way! I don't care if she is a Weasley or not, and I certainly don't care whether you like her, but you will treat her with respect!"

Mouth opening in surprise, Ginny stared up at her husband in awe. Was it possible that he had just defended her against his father? She couldn't believe it. It was just unheard of.

Lucius glowered for a moment and then his expression softened into a smile. "Well, well, it seems my son has grown up," he remarked in the hints of his old, smooth-tongued voice. "Perhaps Narcissa was right, after all . . ."

Draco's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Ginny also was confused and stared at Lucius through narrowed eyes. Just what was that shifty old man up to now?

"_That_ is none of your business," Lucius said simply, and then turned his hawk-like gaze back to Ginny. "You're not going to get an apology from me, girl, but I suppose I must welcome you into the family. You are a Malfoy now."

The words seem to burn his tongue, judging by the distasteful expression on his face, but Ginny decided to be the gracious one and put her pride behind her.

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy," she responded politely, and then not being able to resist getting cheeky with the grumpy old man, continued mock seriously, "I will try not to be too _Weasley_ for you and hurt your noble, Malfoy sensibilities."

Draco sucked in a breath and gave a warning glance at Ginny. That probably had not been the smartest thing to do. He could see her eyes twinkling dangerously in a way that he knew meant mischief, and he hoped that she would not say anything more to do further damage.

Glancing back at his father, he was surprised to see that Lucius was watching Ginny with what could almost be described as an amused smile. Surely that could not be right?

"You have guts, girl, I'll give you that," Lucius remarked with dawning respect, "but don't push your luck. I may be old and decrepit, but I can still take matters into my own hands when I need to, and that includes teaching you some respect."

"I'm sure she knows that, Father," Draco cut in hastily, and gave Ginny another warning glance.

She seemed to finally take the hint, and he was relieved to see the militant sparkle in her eyes die down.

Lucius merely yawned and settled himself more comfortably against his pillows, nightcap drooping precariously over his face. "Yes, well, I'm tired now. You may leave."

Ginny watched in wonder as Lucius closed his eyes and prepared himself for sleep, but Draco's insistent pull on her elbow soon had her attention turning towards him.

"Come on," he said quietly. "We should go."

Ginny nodded and allowed him to steer her out of the room. Draco shut the door behind them and then turned back to face her, letting out a sigh as he did so.

"Well, that went better than I expected," he muttered.

Eyes crinkling in warmth, Ginny placed a hand on his arm and smiled up at him. "Only thanks to you. I can't believe you said that to your father!"

Draco shrugged and looked away, obviously feeling awkward from such praise. "It was nothing."

He made to keep walking, but Ginny gripped his arm to stop him from leaving. His eyes flickered back down to hers a little warily and she had to repress a smile. One of these days he really needed to learn to just relax.

Slackening her grip on his arm, she looked up at him seriously, though the hints of a smile still lingered on her lips.

"It wasn't 'nothing', Draco. It meant a lot to me." Her smile widened and her eyes sparkled with something a bit more than gratitude, allowing her face to shine with a soft radiance. "It made me proud to have you as my husband."

Draco felt that same pleasant warmth he had experienced earlier that day settle in his stomach, and he wondered how it was that she always managed to make him feel like he was slipping away into some strange sort of dream. This feeling was so peaceful and calm, so gentle and yet insistent at the same time. He couldn't understand it at all.

"I only said it because I hated to hear him speak of you in that way," he mumbled, breaking their gaze. "You deserve more respect than that."

Touched by his words, Ginny wrapped her arms around him and held him tight against her. "Thank you," she whispered, holding him close.

Letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, Draco stood there as she hugged him, his heart quickening in his chest. He felt the same old awkwardness he had experienced when she had last hugged him, but this was different somehow. That one had been desperate and acted upon out of sheer relief; this was tender, gentler, and she was not balling her eyes out. Somehow, that made the moment all the more special, though he would be loath to admit it.

Pulling herself away, Ginny bestowed him with another smile and then tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I suppose we should go get our room ready."

He nodded, not quite having a voice to respond anyway.

"Alright then." She stepped away from him and started walking down the corridor, pausing when she realised he was still standing in the same spot. "Aren't you coming? You know I have no idea where this room is."

Pulling himself together, Draco gave a quick nod. "Yeah, I'm coming."

She laughed slightly and continued walking. Draco took a deep breath and followed her down the corridor, feeling more than a little worried. What was wrong with him lately? It was just a hug. Just a damn, sentimental hug, and yet he couldn't get it out of his head. Merlin, he was turning into some sappy idiot!

"Damn her," he muttered, though it was perhaps said with less aggressiveness than normal.

No matter how much he tried to deny it, he knew that things were changing between them, and even he could not escape the mellowing of his heart.

**A/N: I freely admit that I was influenced far too much by Josh Groban's sexy voice and Nightwish's 'Kiss While Your Lips Are Still Red' while writing this, which may have played a part in why there is a bit more of a romantic (and fluffy) feel to this chapter. Oh well, nothing wrong with a bit of fluff . . .**


	19. Branching Off

**Branching Off**

It did not take Ginny long to settle back in the manor; however, she found herself feeling rather flustered upon the discovery that Narcissa had planned a magnificent ball to celebrate her marriage to Draco. As the wedding had been private, it was only fitting that a much larger and grander ball should be given in honour of the newly wedded couple.

Ginny knew that she should have seen it coming, but that didn't stop her from feeling nervous. This was going to be her first outing since marrying Draco, and this ball would also give her an indication of how society was going to receive her in her new role as his wife. It was nerve-wracking, and for the first time she had no idea what to wear for the momentous occasion. She felt like she had to be beautiful, more beautiful than every other woman that would be there, but the sad truth was that she was not. Every dress seemed to make her look hideous in her eyes and she could not for the life of her get her hair to curl right. It was a nightmare. Feelingly increasingly frustrated and depressed, Ginny threw yet another rejected dress to the ground and collapsed onto the large four-poster bed, staring at the ceiling in defeat.

"It's no use!" she exclaimed, looking the picture of tragic forlornness.

The doorknob rattled. Propping herself up on one elbow, Ginny looked in the direction of the door to discover who was intruding on her dressing tribulations, only to see her husband walk into the room. He looked very handsome indeed in his chosen evening attire. Well-formed legs were encased in the finest of black trousers, and his slender body—which Ginny had been at leisure to admire quite a few times now, though never while he was watching—was put off to advantage in a white waistcoat, complemented by a tasteful black over-coat. His cravat was impeccably tied in a style that she believed to be a variation of his own creation, and his whole appearance in general was immaculate, with not a hair out of place. Ginny had to admit that whatever faults her husband had style certainly was not one of them. Perhaps it was a Malfoy trait, for Ginny didn't think she had seen any of the Malfoys wear something that could be considered dreadful or too ostentatious. Even Armand, who was quite careless with his appearance, always managed to look ridiculously handsome in his own boyish way.

Draco, quite oblivious to this favourable assessment of his looks, paused for a moment at the door. His steely eyes widened just a fraction as he rested his gaze upon his wife. Whatever he had been expecting to find upon entering their room, it was clear by the surprise etched onto his face that it was not to see his wife reclining on their bed in nothing but a petticoat and her unmentionables, with a mountain of discarded dresses surrounding her in what seemed a rather ominous way.

Of course, Draco did not at first realise the full danger of his entrance, being rather distracted by the seductive image his wife was unwittingly exhibiting. His eyes quite helplessly glided up the bare legs so innocently displayed to him, but he realised with some disappointment that her petticoat stopped short of taking his vision to more risqué heights. Instinctively, he shifted his gaze to a more satisfying view, following the feminine curve of her waist up to her breasts where a considerable amount of cleavage was exposed due to the nature of the undergarments she was wearing. This enhancing garment, quite naturally, was unknown to him, and Draco was far too interested in the effect to question how such admirable cleavage had been achieved. As such, he was allowed to believe that his wife's breasts were naturally formed in such a way so as to attract his appreciative eye.

It suddenly dawned on him that his voyeuristic behaviour might not be acceptable to his wife, but try as he might—for he did not like to be thought a pervert—he found his gaze riveted to her body and could not bring himself to look away. Ginny, who had been too caught up in her own thoughts to notice her husband's amorous gaze, now sat up properly on the bed and stared at him questioningly. His slightly slack mouth and wandering eye were only just beginning to register, but before she could fully fathom the reasons for this stupefied yet admiring expression, Draco finally got a hold of himself and trained his eyes back to the much safer view of her face.

"Sorry," he muttered, shutting the door behind him. "I forgot to knock."

Shrugging her shoulders, Ginny straightened her petticoat and gave him a forgiving smile. "It's okay. It's not like you saw anything."

Draco said nothing. He was far too busy trying _not_ to imagine what she would look like without the body-hugging petticoat.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Ginny asked, blissfully unaware of her husband's questionable thoughts. "I thought you and Armand were practising your targeting skills in the duelling room."

Vaguely realising that he was being spoken to, Draco blinked and stared at her in some confusion. "What? Oh. Well, we were supposed to, but I, er, seemed to have misplaced my wand somewhere. You haven't seen it, have you?"

Ginny automatically cast her eyes about the room and spotted a thin piece of wood resting quite noticeably on the bedside table. An amused smile settled on her face. She picked up the wand and waved it mockingly before his eyes. "Is this it?"

He let out a sigh and walked towards her. "Yes, that's it."

Ginny laughed and handed the wand over to him. "You know, I always find that whenever I lose something the object is always in the last place I would think to look, simply because of the fact that it just seems too obvious that it should be there."

He chuckled as he pocketed the wand. "Clearly your findings are correct. I've been back-tracking my steps for the past forty minutes, thinking that it couldn't possibly be in my room, yet here it was the whole time. It's just my luck, really."

"Oh, well," she said consolingly, "it could have been worse; you could have really lost your wand, and then what would you have done?"

Draco grimaced. "That would be horrible," he agreed, and then he frowned as he once more noticed the dresses strewn about. "You know, the ball is starting in ten minutes. Don't you think you should get changed?"

"_What_?" Ginny shrieked. "_Ten_ minutes, did you say?"

He nodded. "I believe some of the guests have already arrived."

Ginny let out a groan and buried her face into her hands. "Oh Merlin, what am I going to do? I can't find anything to wear in my wardrobe!"

"I see," Draco remarked dryly, raising his eyebrow as he stared at the many dresses that had been scattered across the bed and carpet. "Well, perhaps that is because your entire wardrobe is on the floor."

Two brown eyes suddenly flashed up at him in heated defence. "Don't you start getting cheeky with me!" The fury in her eyes died a little and she fell back to staring at her lap. "Anyway, it's not that I don't have any dresses to wear; I just don't _want_ to wear them. I just—I just feel so ugly," she ended with a pitiful sigh.

Normally, Ginny would not have confessed such a thing, but she was well and truly at the end of her wits. It was just one of those days, and no amount of shame could deter her from venting her frustrations. She was suffering from that terrible aggravation that all women faced, and though it was more often than not a mere figment of the woman's imagination that she looked ugly in all her clothes, that did not change the fact that she did indeed feel quite hideous in whatever item of clothing she chose to wear.

Draco was stunned by this admission, to say the least. He realised in some discomfort that his male instincts had been right in thinking that he had stumbled into a feminine dilemma of which he was quite certain he did not want to take part.

Frowning down at his wife's hunched form, he wondered what he could possibly say to make her feel better. Though reluctant to embroil himself in such an affair, he did genuinely care about his wife's feelings and did not like to see her looking so downcast. The only problem was that he had no idea what would make her feel better. He didn't think she looked ugly—quite the opposite, in fact—but his pride would not allow him to say that. So, like the typical male that he was, he decided to take the cowardly option and make a strategic retreat, hoping that her mood would miraculously lift with his departure.

"I, uh, don't think I'm the best person to help with that," Draco replied, edging his way towards the door. "Perhaps I could get Alexia or my mother to—"

Before he could even realise what she was doing, Ginny was suddenly standing before him and grasping his hands tightly. "No! No, you're wrong!" she exclaimed happily, almost swinging his arms in her enthusiasm. "You're the perfect person to help me!"

Aware of how close she was—a fact that only emphasised her lack of clothing—Draco tried to disengage himself from her hold. "Really, Ginny, I think you'd prefer a female. I don't know anything about women's clothes or—"

His protests fell on deaf ears.

"Don't be ridiculous! You're a man, aren't you? Of course you know what will look good on me!"

Pulling him ruthlessly by the hand, Ginny dragged him back to the bed and forced him to sit down. Draco could only sigh in resignation, knowing there was no point in arguing with her when she got like this. He waited patiently while she collected all of the dresses from the floor and placed them down on the bed next to him.

"I'm not going to sit here while you try on every one of those dresses," Draco stated, eyeing the mountainous assortment of clothes in some aversion. "There must be at least twenty dresses in that pile!"

"Of course I'm not going to try on all of them. I'm just going to hold them up against me and you're going to tell me which ones you like. At the end, you can decide which one you think I suit the best."

"Well, that makes me feel much better," he muttered dryly, but he acquiesced to her desires nevertheless and stared critically at the sapphire coloured dress she now held up against her body.

Draco thought she looked pretty enough, but he had already caught a glimpse of some of the female guests who had been invited to the ball—many of whom were wearing blue—and he decided that a blue dress simply would not do. His wife needed to stand out, not that she didn't already catch one's eye with that shockingly vibrant hair.

"Not the blue one," Draco said firmly.

Ginny nodded and let the blue dress drop from her hand. "No, I didn't think so when I tried it on earlier either."

The next few dresses were consigned to the same fate. One was too insipid, another too brassy, and one clashed so horribly with her red hair that Draco couldn't help but ask her why she had bought it in the first place.

"I don't know," Ginny admitted in a gloomy voice, throwing the offending article on top of the other discarded dresses. "I thought it looked good on me at the time, but maybe you're right. In any case, we're still no closer to finding a dress for me to wear, and I cannot go down there in my petticoat!"

Draco chuckled slightly. "Well, you can't deny that you would certainly make a statement if you did."

Ginny grinned in spite of herself, and her chestnut eyes met his with an odd mixture of amusement and reproof. "Yes, I daresay I would, but _do_ be serious, Draco. This is important."

"I _am_ being serious. You _would_ make a statement, though I admit that the women might hate you for it. However, I can vouch for the men being perfectly delighted with you."

A blush spread across her cheeks. Though he had said the words flippantly enough, there was something about the appreciative gleam in his eyes that lent some truth to the joking comment. She suddenly felt very shy and very nervous; the discovery that he found her physically appealing was as frightening as it was flattering. Determinedly avoiding his gaze, she picked up another dress from the pile and tried hard to ignore the way her heart quickened with erratic fervour. It had become imperative to not let him see how much his words had affected her.

"Well," she began with an admirable display of nonchalance, "since you can hardly want men to be ogling me all night, and I don't really want to be the object of every woman's hatred, I think we can count that option out. Now tell me, what do you think of this one?"

Draco examined the dress she was now holding up for him—a charming creation of embedded pearls, lace and cream silk—and nodded his head approvingly. "It looks good."

Delighted that they had finally come to an agreement, Ginny forgot all about her previous embarrassment and thanked him with a smile before flittering off to her dressing table to get changed. It soon became apparent, however, that the reach of her arms did not quite extend far enough for her to do up the dress. Sighing in exasperation, Ginny awkwardly tried to grasp at the top-most ties when hands closed over hers. She froze, feeling suddenly paralysed.

"Here, let me," Draco murmured from behind her, so close that she felt his breath fan her neck in a way that sent pleasant shivers running down her spine.

Ginny swallowed hard. She was very conscious of his proximity. Never had the familiar scent of his cologne seemed so intoxicating, yet it was the strange sort of electric pull she could feel building between them that made her truly breathless. Her heart pounded against her ribs, spurred on by the nervous excitement she was feeling, and she obediently let her hands drop to her side, giving him permission to fasten her dress. Draco gently moved her hair to fall over her shoulder, and then she could feel his fingers brushing against her skin as he started doing up the ties on the dress—every touch sending feather light flutters to shoot through her stomach.

He did not purposely try to touch her, nor did he linger too long to give the impression that he was taking pleasure in the act. In fact, he was so business-like in his manner that it really should not have affected her at all, yet Ginny could not help but stand with bated breath, not quite sure what to think or what to feel, and finding herself experiencing the oddest urge to close her eyes.

Draco fastened the last tie and then stood back. Ginny turned and looked up into his handsome face, meeting his curiously grey eyes for just a moment before she lowered her gaze to her feet; her cheeks were blossoming with pink.

"Thank you," she mumbled in a shy voice, keeping her eyes lowered.

"You're welcome," he replied, and the faintest of smiles curled his lip. "I could see that, if left to your own devices, you would probably end up pulling a muscle."

Ginny couldn't help but laugh, and her eyes darted back up to his with an expression so open and friendly that he felt something tug at his heart that was not quite fond amusement. He firmly pushed the feelings aside.

"Are you ready, then?" he asked in a sudden shift back to his business-like manner.

"Not yet."

She faced the dresser and tugged on a pair of long, silk gloves, then slipped on a pair of very pretty pearl earrings that complemented her dress. Finally, she added the last few finishing touches to her make-up. A frown flittered across her lips as she stared at her reflection, and she deftly fixed up her hair so that all the curls were kept up and threaded with a cream ribbon, allowing a lock of red to rest artlessly over her shoulder.

"Done!" Ginny exclaimed, turning back to face him with a satisfied smile on her lips.

Perhaps he was just feeling particularly mellow that night, for instead of giving her a curt nod as he usually did, Draco smiled nicely down at her and offered his arm. "Shall we go?"

Ginny grinned and linked her arm with his, nodding her agreement, and together they exited the room.

Whatever delights the redhead might have taken in the grand design of her coming-out ball, the Malfoys truly eclipsed her expectations with the incredibly large ballroom she now entered. Chandeliers burning with what seemed like hundreds of candles hung from the roof, which Ginny noticed had been charmed to reflect the starry night sky, just like at Hogwarts. The effect was that it felt like one was walking into heaven through a corridor of pearly white, and made little stars of simple pleasure glitter in her chestnut eyes. Adorning the perimeter of the ballroom were marble pillars that supported white vases decorated with silver ribbons. Each vase held a generous bunch of perfect white roses, tastefully arranged by Narcissa herself. It was very beautiful, and by far the most elegant design Ginny had seen since coming to London.

"Wow," was all she could muster, her eyes wide with the splendour of it all.

Draco laughed lightly. "Give your compliments to my mother. She was the one who decided on the decorations."

Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but just in that moment Armand bounded over to them and interrupted their tête-à-tête.

"Took you two long enough!" he exclaimed. "Aunt Cissy was having kittens once she realised that you had both not made an appearance yet. She seemed to think the two of you might not come to the ball at all."

"Whatever can she have thought that for?" Ginny mused in some surprise. "I hope Draco and I are not so lost to decorum that we don't know what we owe to our names, or to Narcissa."

Armand shrugged. "I don't know what maggot she took into her head, but I'm pleased you did come. I can't say I'm enjoying my first ball." He scrunched up his face in boyish distaste. "Everyone stares at you so, and some mammoth of a woman actually pinched my cheek and called me _her_ _engaging Frenchman_."

He shuddered dramatically and cast a glance behind him so as to make sure the frightening woman was not still lingering in the hopes of getting another grasp at the ravaged cheek.

Ginny's eyes twinkled. "Not enjoying the ladies' attention, Armand? I wouldn't have thought it. You always were a flirt."

"I do not find these women _fort amusant_," that graceless boy replied bluntly. "Besides, I cannot flirt with a mammoth."

Both Draco and Ginny laughed, but then more guests filed in from the doors behind them and there was nothing more for the group to do but disband. Draco led Ginny towards some of the more notable people who had been invited to make the expected rounds and introductions, and Armand—perceiving where they were heading—abandoned the couple for more amusing entertainment. An elderly woman, who reminded Ginny of praying mantis, beckoned Draco to come to her with a fan while shooting him imperious looks that could not be ignored.

"Brace yourself," Draco muttered in a voice of deep foreboding, while guiding Ginny towards the woman. "This is one of the leading patronesses of high society. She can make or break a person, no matter how pure your blood is. You'd better be on your best behaviour, unless you want a whole lot of nasty gossip to be spun about you."

A dimple appeared. "As if I would be anything but on my best behaviour."

Draco met her mischievous smile with misgiving, but anything he might have said was silenced by the sound of a fan snapping shut.

"Mrs Malfoy," a decidedly haughty voice said in greeting, "I do not believe we have had the pleasure. Allow me to make your acquaintance. I am Mrs Penkridge."

One regal hand was extended, but it took Ginny a moment to realise that the very intimidating woman now eyeing her appraisingly through hawk-like eyes was actually speaking to her. She had almost forgotten that her new title was Mrs Malfoy. Gathering her wits together, Ginny accepted the proffered hand with dutiful politeness.

"It is a pleasure, Mrs Penkridge," she said in an admirable recovery of formality, and slightly inclined her head. "You will have to forgive my not attending. I'm still getting used to being a married woman."

Draco's lips twitched but he said nothing.

Mrs Penkridge released Ginny's hand with a frosty smile. "Ah, yes. You are used to being addressed as 'Miss Weasley', are you not? We have not had any Weasleys here since your father made a name of himself by running off with Molly Prewitt. Couldn't afford the expenses, I suppose."

Ginny shifted uncomfortably. "Something like that."

Mrs Penkridge simply nodded and then turned her cold black eyes towards Draco. "I confess I did not think to see you married so early, young Malfoy. You have surprised us all. A love match, I presume?"

Both Draco and Ginny flushed and exchanged quick, embarrassed glances.

An enlightened gleam entered the black eyes. "I see."

Ginny was not sure what it was the haughty woman had seen, but it was enough to make her feel distinctly uncomfortable. Thankfully, Draco had the presence of mind to excuse them from any more impudent questions, saying quite politely that he and Ginny were both happy with their marriage—while taking care not to hint at it being arranged or romantically founded—and then expressed his wish to introduce his wife to the other guests. Mrs Penkridge was left with no option but to incline her head in dismissal and allow the discomforted couple to leave.

Ginny placed one gloved hand against her burning cheek and wilfully tried to arrange her face into a more composed expression. "I cannot believe how impertinent some people can be!" she exclaimed in a fierce whisper, once they were safe from earshot. "To think that she actually demanded to know whether we loved each other!"

Her husband, having already mastered his feelings, was nevertheless able to sympathise with her repugnance and embarrassment at having been thus accosted by such an upfront, arrogant woman. He agreed that Mrs Penkridge had gone too far enquiring into the nature of their marriage, but was careful not to say anything more on the matter. His reserve did not allow him to flirt with such a dangerous topic as love—especially with his wife, who already invaded his thoughts far too often for his comfort. Ginny took the hint and did not continue the subject.

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough. Ginny was introduced to several people—many whose names she forgot just as quickly as she learnt them—and was in such good spirits that those who did make her acquaintance were agreeably surprised with the latest addition to the Malfoy name. They had come with the expectation of meeting a very different girl to the charming young woman presented to them, who blended an intriguing degree of impishness with a quiet, unaffected dignity. Even the most hardened of critics found little fault in her behaviour, and many were on their way to professing the young Mrs Malfoy to be a very amiable young woman and not at all the vulgar hoyden they had been led to believe her. That Ginny's high spirits were mainly due to the fact that she felt obligated to be on her best behaviour, as well as the fact that Draco was equally in a good humour, did not occur to anyone.

It was true that no one could be more charming than Ginny when she wished to be, but her lively sense of the ridiculous often led her to say things that were best left unsaid. It was a testament to her sense of duty that she bit her tongue instead of letting loose half the remarks she wished to make. She did not, however, spare these remarks from her husband, but as he laughed with her at the observations she made—even making a few of his own—this was no bad thing.

Thus, armed with the respect that naturally accompanied the Malfoy name, and blessed with manners that were not at all unpleasant, Ginny quickly secured a great deal more success in her new society than she could have hoped for, inspiring many of the people present, who had previously received her with frosty smiles, to thaw in their dislike of her and treat her with much more kindness. Not only that, but it seemed that Daphne had been speaking the truth when she had expressed a desire to befriend Ginny and had wasted no time in renewing their acquaintance. Pansy soon followed suit, having shrewdly realised that Ginny was no longer a nobody to be ignored. Since Pansy was able to converse on topics that were much more satisfactory than Daphne's twittering conversations about gossip and men, she instantly secured Ginny's gratitude and friendship.

Even Lucius Malfoy rose to the occasion by rousing himself from the depths of his bedchamber to make an appearance, if a very brief one. He painstakingly made the effort to show to the world that he had accepted Ginny into his family by making a toast to the newly-wedded couple, but more particularly to the spirited bride at his son's side. It was true that this rare act of gallantry was indeed just an act, but Lucius took family pride very much to heart and was not going to reveal his dislike of his son's wife to anybody that was not his own family—even if she had been born a Weasley. After this astonishing speech, the senior Malfoy once again retired to his boudoir, but his presence and words had made their mark. Even more people were inclined to like the new Mrs Malfoy, not wanting to offend such a respectable and awe-inspiring figure as Lucius Malfoy, who had made it clear that he had sanctioned the marriage with great pleasure.

Of course, it was true that not everyone was pleased with the latest addition to the Malfoy family, and did not hesitate to make their dislike shown through thinly veiled remarks. However, as these people consisted of Alexia, Sephrina and some other women and men who were known to be just as haughty and spiteful, their dislike made little impact. Ginny was determined to please and be pleased by everybody, no matter how false and fickle they might be.

There was one person, however, whose smile did not make her question the integrity of that displayed happiness. No sooner had Ginny spotted her dear friend Kitty then was she seen to be making her way quickly over, greeting the brunette with a hug and a broad smile, which she amply received in return.

"I swear it's been an age!" Kitty declared, pulling back from the embrace. "Why didn't you tell me earlier that you were married to Draco Malfoy? I could have sworn it was Julian who had your affections."

Ginny blanched at the reminder of Julian Adderson, who, try as she might, would not fade into the nether-regions of her mind. She forced an indifferent smile to her lips. Close as she was to her friend, she found that she could not confess the truth of her odd marriage to Draco.

"I suppose I thought he was handsome, but I came to realise that it was Draco who I truly loved."

It was surprising how easily the lie came to her lips.

Kitty seemed satisfied, however, and merely gave a slight toss of her hair and a shrug. "Well, if you say so. I can't say I would pick Malfoy over Julian, but then I suppose you know him far better than I do."

"He's not as bad as you think."

Her friend did not argue the matter and instead questioned Ginny on how the marriage came about. As Ginny had no wish to embarrass herself or her husband by saying the truth, she fabricated quite a few reasons to explain the matter, knowing she would have to let Draco know of her lies later. No doubt he was doing the same, though. It was no secret that neither wished people to know the real reason behind their nuptials. It was just too lowering to be considered one of those people who had only married for convenience. Kitty, however, was delighted with the lies and claimed the whole affair to be very romantic. She could only be sorry that she had not been there to see the wedding herself.

Kitty's queries about the honeymoon were not so well-received. Ginny blushed when asked what it had been like and, after much winking and nudges, eventually answered that it was all that she had expected it to be. She refused to elaborate further.

"Mrs Malfoy," a familiar voice interrupted. "I beg you will forgive my intrusion, but you must allow me to offer you my felicitations on your marriage to my friend. I hope he has made you comfortable?"

Ginny turned in relief, and an easy smile came to her lips as she greeted the serious face of Theodore Nott. _Clever_, she thought, _talking to me while I am conversing with Kitty._

Her smile grew. "Thank you. Draco has made me very comfortable. And how have you been since we last met? I hope your business is going well."

"Much better, thank you."

Theodore glanced at Kitty, who blushed faintly under his gaze. "How do you do, Miss Katherine?"

"F-fine, thank you," she responded in a small voice.

"I am glad to hear it."

Kitty managed a tight smile and then stared determinedly at her hands. It was clear that she was too intimidated to do anything more. Left with no alternative, Ginny and Theodore fell back into talking, exchanging pleasantries about nothing in particular, but there was a strain on the conversation and both soon fell silent. Theodore looked like he wanted to say more to Kitty, but he could not think of anything that would give him the excuse to linger at her side. Even Ginny could not assist him, so marked was Kitty's desire to ignore him, and so he was left with nothing else to do but reluctantly make his bow and excuse himself. Both girls watched him retreat back to the group of men where Draco was stationed—Ginny feeling just a little sorry that she had not been able to do more to help her quiet friend.

"Oh! I thought I was going to die!" Kitty exclaimed as soon as he was out of earshot, her cheeks rosier than ever. "You did not tell me that you had spoken to him!"

"He merely asked you how you were. You can't tell me that you found something to be frightened of by that!"

"Well, no," Kitty agreed, "but I can't look him in the face without knowing that my parents want me to marry him, and _that_ is enough to put me out of all countenance! Besides, he stares at one so. I cannot like him."

"Perhaps he is admiring your beauty."

Kitty shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Nothing can prevail upon me to like such a man as _him_. You may be pleased with one of those men, but _I_ am not. They are far too proud and serious for me."

Ginny realised she would have to change her tactics.

"If you say so," she said with an indifferent shrug. "I have found him to be very agreeable myself, but if you don't care for him then I guess it doesn't matter. It is a shame, though. From what I know he has never shown such marked attention to a woman before. I feel sorry for him, knowing how hopeless his attentions are when I see how clearly he is in love with you."

Kitty looked a little abashed and glanced involuntarily towards Theodore. "He cannot love me. He barely talks to me!"

Ginny laughed. "What difference does it make? You said yourself that nothing could prevail upon you to marry him. It should not matter whether he loves you or not, right?"

"R-right," Kitty agreed, though her eyes continued to rest on Theodore a lot more frequently after that, much to Ginny's satisfaction.

It was not to be expected that Ginny could spend the whole ball without dancing with her husband at least once. They were supposed to have led the first waltz, but with one thing or another the two had managed to avoid the act. Now, however, it could not be postponed any further. Narcissa had left her post of greeting the guests and was determined to have the couple grace the floor together.

"I believe my mother is trying to hint us into dancing," Draco remarked, eyeing his mother's efforts with an amused smile.

Ginny looked up from pouring herself a glass of lemonade. "Is that so?" Her eyes twinkled merrily. "Shall we oblige your mother just this once, or do you dare to bring Narcissa's wrath upon our heads?"

Draco laughed. "Truthfully, I do not dare. My mother can be very unpleasant."

"Mm, yes. That must have been why you agreed to dance with me the first time."

He looked a little confused, but then realisation dawned and a faint flush stole to his cheeks. "I had hoped you had forgot that night."

"No, though in some ways I would like to." She smiled teasingly and placed her cup back down on the table. "Your behaviour really was shocking, you know. I don't deny that your words to me were true, but to say it to my face was not nice."

"Had I known you as I do now, I don't think I would have behaved in such a way or said such things. Call it pride or prejudice—either way I was too conceited to see that I was offending you, and I'm sorry for it."

An easy smile came to her lips. "There's no need to apologise. I forgave you a long time ago; in truth, I have not thought of that night in a while. It was only the dance that put me in mind of it."

He smiled and extended his hand out to her in a truce. "Well, then allow me to make up for that disastrous first dance by accepting my hand for _this_ dance."

Ginny took his hand and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. He lightly clasped her waist, pulling her closer, and then they slowly started moving together in the steps of a graceful waltz.

"I see you have become a more confident dancer," he remarked after a moment of silence.

Ginny couldn't help but laugh. "I have had ample opportunity to practise since I first danced with you, but I have to admit that it depends mostly on my partner. Your advice to me that night has proven invaluable. I believe I have only stood on a few toes, and much of that was their own fault."

He chuckled in appreciation. "Thank you. I will take the compliment for what it is worth."

She grinned up at him and looked so radiant in her smiles that one man was inspired to say to Blaise Zabini, who was standing beside him, that she was a pretty little thing. Quite incomparable, really.

"I don't think I've ever seen a woman look so lovely when she smiles," the man continued.

Blaise looked down his nose at his neighbour. "What on earth are you talking about, Charles?"

Charles gestured towards the dancing couple. "The new Mrs Malfoy, of course. Draco's a lucky man to get such a woman as that. Just look at her!"

Blaise did.

He had seen Ginevra Weasley—now Malfoy—many times before, but he did have to admit that looking at her right then seemed like seeing her for the first time. She had always been a rather plain girl to him and certainly not worth his notice, but there was something about her in that moment that struck his roving eye. Her cheeks were flushed with a becoming pink, her kissable lips curved up into the most enchanting smile he had ever seen, and her chestnut eyes sparkled with a brilliance that seemed too beautiful to be natural.

Blaise watched Draco lean down to murmur something in her ear. From this vantage point, he was at free reign to see her eyes light up with true amusement, and then a peal of infectious laughter escaped her lips.

Charles let out a small sigh. "Lucky dog. Seems like he won't have to worry about any brats coming out through a side-door. The girl is clearly in love with him."

"In love?" Blaise laughed softly. "I find that highly unlikely."

Yet he was intrigued all the same. He had not forgot the night he had encouraged Draco to get drunk and sleep with a barmaid, nor had he forgot the reasons for that drunken stint. Was it possible his friend had managed to tame the tigress? Or were they merely putting on a show for tonight? If it were the latter, he could not care less about the girl encircled in his friend's arms. But if it were the former…

His eyes lit up with a decidedly wicked gleam as he followed Ginny's progress. There was nothing more attractive to him than a woman who was off-limits. It awakened a sense of adventure inside him—an inexplicable desire to see if he could use his charm to transfer a woman's attention to himself, while at the same time stealing the object of someone else's affections. Of course, to do such a thing with Ginevra Malfoy was unthinkable, yet that was what made the hunt all the more exciting. She was as unattainable as she was alluring, and he could not help but wonder if he could succeed.

The hunter had been awoken, and with a devilish smile curling his lips, he slowly started formulating his plan.

Completely oblivious to the schemes being formed around her, Ginny finished her dance with Draco and allowed him to lead her by the hand back to the punch table. She did not think that she had ever enjoyed a dance so immensely, and she was just telling him that they would have to do it again before the night was out when a thin man wearing an absurdly colourful waistcoat accosted them and demanded Draco's assistance.

Ginny had to repress a sigh of frustration. For once she was quite happy to spend the evening in the company of her husband, but it seemed that everyone was determined to take him away from her. Draco seemed to be feeling much the same, judging by the reluctant edge to his eyes. He excused himself nonetheless and followed the oddly dressed man, leaving Ginny standing alone and feeling just a little disappointed.

She was still watching his retreating figure when Blaise Zabini sauntered up to her with cat-like stealth.

"I see I find you all alone," he remarked in a velvety voice, stopping close behind her.

Ginny jumped and spun around, her eyes widening just a fraction when she saw the dark-skinned wizard. Blaise had not spoken barely six words to her during all the years they had known each other, yet here he was actually singling her out. It was somewhat confusing.

"So you do," she replied cautiously, taking a step back.

He noticed her movement and let out a low laugh. Ginny was irritated to find the sound incredibly attractive.

"I'm surprised," he mused, his voice almost a purr. "If I were lucky enough to be your husband, I would not be so eager to leave you."

Ginny's eyebrow rose slightly. "Is that so? Strange, I never thought you one of my admirers."

Blaise dismissed the accusation with another of his low laughs. "Perhaps I was not as open as others, but I believe it is impossible not to admire you."

Both eyebrows rose in open scepticism. "You astonish me."

He leaned against the wall and smiled lazily down at her. "You do not believe me, do you, Ginevra?"

"No," Ginny stated frankly. "I don't."

He laughed again—really laughed this time—and once again Ginny was annoyed to find herself intrigued. There was a note of mockery in the laugh that piqued her yet somehow fascinated as well.

"You are too perceptive for my games, I see," he said, inclining his head. "You're right, I was not one of your admirers, but now I find myself quite your slave. I envy Draco for having discovered your beauty before I did. He has stolen a march on us all."

Ginny didn't know what to say to this sudden attack—her fencing skills were quite unequal to such a direct strike—and looked down in considerable confusion. She could feel her cheeks warming and desperately tried to compose herself. It would not do to have Blaise Zabini think that he could slip under her guard so easily, especially when she was still unable to decide whether he was telling the truth. It almost seemed like he was earnest, yet there was still that faint note of mockery in his voice.

"I wonder you dare say such things," she said tightly. "It is not proper."

Blaise tilted her face up to his with one expert lift of his finger, forcing her to meet his dark, alluring eyes. "Do you always care about what's proper?" he asked, and she could tell that he was implying a lot more than a mild flirtation with the seductive smile that followed.

Ginny suddenly felt breathless. Never had a man been so forward with his attentions to her, and since Blaise Zabini was quite one of the handsomest men she had ever met, she found herself feeling a little too flustered to rebuff him as she should have. His finger slowly trailed up her cheek in a caress, but this proved too much for Ginny, whose natural modesty shied from receiving such an intimate touch from a man she barely knew and who was not her husband.

She was just preparing to give him a sharp set-down when a cold voice interrupted them.

"Get your hands off my wife, Zabini!"

Blaise immediately dropped his hand and straightened to his full height. "Draco."

Ginny flushed, embarrassed that she had been caught in such a compromising situation, and glanced at her husband. She was surprised to see his grey eyes smouldering in obvious anger and his mouth level into a grim line. Then she noticed that he had his hands clenched tightly into fists. She would have laughed if the situation had not been so awkward—for it really was ridiculous to see how angry he was getting over something so trifling—but, as it was, she found very little to laugh about in that moment. Her husband was looking murderous, and Blaise actually seemed delighted that Draco had intruded upon them.

Something told her that it would not be wise to let the two wizards talk. She knew enough about men to realise that fighting could only ensue, and that was the last thing they needed to happen during their celebration ball. Narcissa would never forgive her.

Giving a sharp glare at Blaise for putting her in this mess, Ginny walked over to Draco and took his arm in hers. "Will you walk with me outside?" she asked, leading him firmly towards the double set of doors that joined with the balcony. "I would like some fresh air."

Draco complied, though his eyes remained fixed on Blaise until he was dragged completely out of the room. Ginny was relieved to see that they were the only ones on the balcony and quickly let go of Draco's arm to put more distance between them as soon as the doors were shut safely behind them. She felt troubled by the expression on his face—her innate sense of self-preservation telling her that he was no happier with her than he had been with her admirer.

"Do you mind telling me what just happened?" Draco growled, folding his arms against his chest. His eyes were still smouldering with uncontained anger.

Ginny had to repress a sigh. She knew that she would not have been able to escape the interrogation, but at least no one else was here to witness it.

"It was nothing. Blaise was just—"

"_Blaise_, is it?" Draco interrupted, looking even more furious. "Since when did you two get on first name terms?"

"We're not, but—"

"Oh, really? Then how do you explain your proximity to him before?"

Ginny was startled at the sudden menace in his voice. She had known that he was angry, but this was getting ridiculous. How could he possibly think that there was anything between her and Blaise Zabini? Surely Draco must realise that she didn't care for Blaise at all, even if the dark-haired wizard was handsome and had a nice laugh.

"If I didn't know any better, Draco, I'd say you were jealous."

His face contorted into a scowl. "Jealousy has nothing to do with it. Do you have any idea how ridiculous you make me look when you flirt with other men?"

"I was not flirting with him!" she retorted, feeling her anger rise.

"Do you take me for a fool? I saw you blushing! I saw the way he touched you! Anyone would have thought _he_ was your husband with the way you two were behaving!"

"And so what if I did?" she fired back recklessly, too irritated with his pig-headedness to care if it was a wise thing to do. "It's not like you've ever shown me any attention in that way!"

His eyes glittered dangerously. "And so you'll let any idiot touch you and flirt with you because I do not?"

Ginny flushed with anger and embarrassment, already regretting her hasty words. "Of course not!"

"Then why?" He closed in on her, stealing what little personal space she had left. "Why, with so little attempt at discretion, did you willingly allow Blaise Zabini to treat you like one of his flights of fancy? In front of my very eyes, I might add!"

She felt trapped, angry, breathless, and fascinated all in one. A part of her was furious with him for insinuating that she was going behind his back to encourage the attentions of Blaise Zabini, but, despite that, she could not help feeling intrigued by the sudden passion he was showing. His eyes burned with jealousy—a jealousy inflamed at the thought of her being with another man.

Was it possible that he cared for her more than he let on? Or was he simply acting like the dog protecting his bone?

"Well?" he growled, moving even closer towards her. "I'm still waiting for your grand explanation."

She sighed and folded her arms across her chest. "I didn't let or encourage him to do anything. He just took it into his head to flirt with me, and if you weren't so stupidly obstinate and blind, you would have realised that as soon as you saw us! Besides, need I remind you that it is _you _I am standing on the balcony with and not him—a fact that should have told you right from the start how little I care for him."

"Oh." Draco looked a little abashed. "I didn't think about that."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Of course you didn't. You were too busy getting worked up about nothing. Honestly, Draco, what kind of woman do you take me for?"

"Well, how was I to know?" he fired back defensively. "You two looked pretty cosy from where I was standing."

"Zabini is an arrogant flirt, and you're even worse for believing that I actually encouraged his attentions! I can assure you that if you had not interrupted in that moment, I would have sent him on his way quite happily."

"Oh."

"Yes, _oh_," Ginny replied contemptuously. "Now stop being so unreasonably cross with me, Draco, because I'm telling you that I won't have it!"

Draco, surprisingly, complied with her wish. Ginny let out a sigh of relief, glad that was out of the way. Then, struck by a certain memory, she let out an involuntary chuckle.

"What can possibly be so funny?" Draco asked, staring at her suspiciously.

"You should have seen your face!" Ginny said between giggles. "I thought you were going to murder him!"

Draco looked a little sheepish. "I think I might have if you hadn't dragged me away. Blaise was never a favourite of mine, and I have little desire to see him making up to my wife."

Ginny's humour died at that. "Is that all you were angry about? The fact that I'm your wife?"

A crease formed on his brow. "Why else would I be angry?"

"Oh!" Ginny exclaimed in a huff, abruptly pushing past him. "I'm going inside!"

Draco watched her leave in silence, his puzzlement only increasing. Females, he decided, were very odd.

Much to Draco's dissatisfaction, he could not find Blaise again upon entering the ballroom. He had wanted to hex the man, or maybe just satisfy his physical cravings and punch the smug look of that supposedly handsome face. As it was, Draco had been unable to do either. Blaise, it seemed, had decided to make a wise retreat, though whether the dark-skinned wizard had given up on his scheme to seduce Ginny was an entirely different matter. Ginny couldn't have cared less either way. She was far too busy ignoring Draco, and would have continued her silent treatment towards him—which savoured strongly of the sulks—if she had not caught a glance of a woman dressed in a very large, and rather absurd, purple turban.

She turned to him impulsively. "Goodness, Draco, look at that woman's headdress! She looks positively ridiculous!"

He laughed, and with that magical sound all enmity between them was forgotten. So it was that the rest of the night passed with perfect equanimity, and it was a very exhausted couple who collapsed on their bed in the early morning hours. Neither thought to question why they ended up sleeping much closer together than usual.

**OOOO**

After the great success of Narcissa's party, Ginny was showered with invitations to balls, soirees and other such gatherings to amuse a young married lady. However, not all of her time could be consumed by frivolous entertainment, and it was not long before Ginny realised that living at the Malfoys' while married to their son was not something she particularly enjoyed.

Thankfully, she had not been required to have an audience with Lucius Malfoy again—he having felt that he had done more than his part by speaking to her the first time and making that infernal toast. Still, constantly being teased by Armand (who had somehow wormed out of Draco that the marriage had not been consummated and so took a lamentable delight in calling them both chicken-hearted prudes), as well as putting up with Alexia's spitefulness, was becoming rather trying. Even Narcissa, of whom Ginny normally felt some respect, was beginning to grate on the redhead's nerves with her not-so-subtle enquiries about Ginny's state of health.

There was no denying that enterprising woman seemed to be expecting Ginny's stomach to start ballooning out anytime soon. This, naturally, caused Ginny to feel some anxiety and demand of her husband a few days later, while they sat together in the bed in the domestic setting of their bedroom, whether she was always going to be subjected to such treatment from his family. Draco placed his book down and remarked that he thought she should have known how it would be. He had always told her that his mother was a pushy, conniving woman, that his cousin always had been a disgraceful rattle—indeed, it would be more remarkable if Armand didn't tease her—and that Alexia didn't know how to be anything but spiteful and sulky. Ginny was not comforted by this speech and banged her head back against the very plump pillow resting behind her back.

"Well, I don't like it!" she declared with a scowl. "I swear if I have to stomach looking at Alexia's sour face one more time or listen to your mother question whether I've been feeling queasy lately, I'm going to scream!"

Draco, feeling the full force of this argument, could only sigh in empathy and wonder if perhaps it was time that they did find their own place. Merlin knew that he was getting tired of Armand's crude taunts, and Alexia was being a damned nuisance as always, trying to turn him against Ginny with malicious, backbiting remarks. Even his own parents were driving him to the end of his wits with the constant nagging of 'when will be the baby be coming?'

He had always intended to purchase his own place for he and Ginny to live—for they could hardly be expected to stay at Malfoy manor with his parents for the rest of their lives—but he had not really given the matter much thought upon returning from his honeymoon. Now, however, he was well aware of the evils in staying at the manor, and fully appreciated the benefits of escaping to the solace of a home where neither his parents nor his cousins occupied.

"I'll tell you what," he offered in an appeasing voice. "Tomorrow we'll go look at some of the houses in London. I can't say I know much of what is for sale, but if we can find something suitable for us to live in, we can be out of the manor by the end of the week."

Ginny found instant favour with this idea and rewarded him with a sunny smile. After much discussion on what sort of house would be preferable, she went to bed later that night feeling much more optimistic about her future prospects and happiness.

The next morning Draco and Ginny disclosed their plan to Narcissa over the breakfast table. Armand seemed disappointed, complaining that he was never going to get any entertainment now; Alexia merely wished them a dry good luck. Narcissa raised one haughty eyebrow, but upon some quick, silent reflection, perceived that perhaps this would be more beneficial to the young couple than staying under the protection of her wing. She was no fool and had gathered very early on that her son and his wife had not consummated their marriage on their wedding night. There was a decided lack of intimacy between the two, which suggested that very little progress had been made on that respect. Though they were not reluctant to spend time together, their communication and behaviour towards each other was friendly and respectful at the most—certainly nothing like the slightly awkward or lover-like behaviour one would expect from a couple who had been physically intimate with each other.

Narcissa had tried to give them a push by placing Binky at the cottage, and she had even taken great efforts to corner Ginny into a standstill by insinuating that she was expecting to see signs of her daughter-in-law's pregnancy any day now—it had been almost two weeks since the marriage night. But it was all to no avail. The two remained stubbornly apart and treated each other as two friends living together might, while Ginny continued to insist that she felt perfectly healthy and, indeed, looked far from succumbing to the woes of pregnancy any time soon.

Still, Narcissa was not one to give up. She could see the potential in their marriage and rather hoped that their breaking away to their own home would allow a chance for something deeper to blossom between them. Never would she let it be said that she had not had her son's best interests at heart when she had recommended—and forced—him to marry Ginevra Weasley, nor would she allow their silly scruples to ruin her husband's desire to hold his grandchild before he died. By hook or by crook, she was going to get that grandchild, and if it meant she had to loosen her grasp over the two, then so be it.

"Very well," Narcissa responded smoothly, not allowing a trace of her thoughts to be glimpsed in her expression. "I will get Bootle to gather information on what suitable homes are available at the moment. I'm sure you have no wish to trail all over London looking at houses that are ill-fitted for your rank when you don't need to, and he is the one who manages your affairs, after all."

"Bootle?" Ginny queried.

"Our man of business," Draco explained, and then turned his attention back to his scheming parent. "I never thought of going to Bootle, but you're right that he will be the best to help us."

Narcissa took a delicate sip of her tea. "I'm surprised you did not talk to him earlier, Draco," she remarked in the air of one levelling a sharp critique. "Surely you must have realised by now that you need to sort out your finances to accommodate your wife. I hope you do not expect me to constantly remind you of your obligations. You are a married man now, and you must start to take responsibility for your own family."

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair, looking nothing like the man his mother had declared him to be, and everything like the small child he felt. "I forgot," he confessed, staring down at his hands in shame.

"I thought you might have," Narcissa replied in a dry voice. She turned her gaze on Ginny, causing that young damsel to suck in a breath of foreboding. "You'll soon learn, Ginevra, that my son has a bad habit of forgetting matters that do not primarily concern himself. I have tried to break him from this habit, but—" she rolled her eyes towards her son "—he is just like his father in that respect."

The son in question looked up defensively at this remark, accompanied by Armand's stifled sniggers. Narcissa ignored them both and settled herself more comfortably on her chair, looking like a queen amongst peasants as she stirred her tea with a silver spoon.

"In any case," she continued in her cool, mellifluous voice, "now that you have been reminded of your duties, you can make arrangements for Ginevra while you are with Bootle today."

"Thank you, Mother," her son replied in a bitterly polite voice. "I shall do just that."

Ginny shifted uncomfortably. It was very difficult to enjoy her bacon and eggs when there was a stiff argument taking place, especially when said argument had been started for her sake. The tension that lingered afterwards did little to soothe her nerves either, so Ginny was more than glad to see breakfast come to an end and escape with Draco to make a visit to the mysterious Bootle.

Bootle's office was located in a grey building of little consequence, and the man himself was just as dull as his surroundings. He was of medium height, had sandy coloured hair, and blue eyes of no extraordinary colour. His clothes were chosen for neatness rather than fashion, and his voice leaned dangerously towards being monotone. Despite this, Ginny favoured him with a friendly smile upon greeting and took a seat on one of the chairs resting near the wall; she would let Draco do the talking today.

"So, Draco, your mother tells me you are looking for a house," Bootle commented, while ruffling through some papers on his desk.

"Yes, and I'd might as well sort out Ginny's situation while I'm here, too. She needs an allowance, of course, and we need to set up a joint account at Gringotts…"

Draco rattled on in this style, and Ginny—growing bored—stared out the window at the wizards and witches she could see walking backwards and forwards on the busy street below. The only time her interest was really piqued was when she saw a particularly hideous outfit; otherwise she had to resist the urge to fall asleep. Business meetings, even of the personal sort, were frankly tedious.

"Then it is all sorted," Bootle announced some minutes later, handing Draco a pile of papers. "These are the houses I would recommend you look at. The others would not be fit for your needs."

"Thank you." Draco glanced at Ginny, and an amused smile came to his lips when he saw how quickly she got to her feet. "Ready to go?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, then blushed as she realised her enthusiasm wasn't exactly complimentary. "I mean, it was nice meeting you," she added, throwing a sheepish glance at Bootle.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mrs Malfoy," Bootle responded, though the smile lurking in his eyes suggested he had sensed her true thoughts.

Ginny's blush deepened, but she merely nodded her head in goodbye and then followed Draco out of the room. Thus, armed with Bootle's findings, the newly wedded couple set off with fresh and hopeful faces to look at their first house. Draco knocked at the door, which swung open before he even had time to pull his hand away, and they suddenly found themselves greeted by a plump woman with rosy cheeks and a broad, if not blinding, smile.

"Welcome, welcome," she gushed, ushering the two young people in the door with her finely manicured hand. "Please, take your time looking around. If you have any questions about the house, do not hesitate to ask."

Draco politely thanked the woman and then both he and Ginny started making their slow trek around the house. The woman followed them, making idle comments here and there about the special features the building contained, but she seemed more interested in gleaning whatever information she could about the young couple. After a while, Draco grew tired of her incessant questions and rather rudely—at least in Ginny's opinion—told her that they did not need her services and could inspect the house quite capably on their own.

"That wasn't very nice," Ginny remarked after the woman had left, though her eyes held a decided twinkle which belied the severity of her expression.

"Not nice but necessary," he replied bluntly. "That woman was never going to leave us alone."

Ginny only shrugged and then walked into a room she guessed was a parlour. "You know, Draco," she said pulling a face as she examined her surroundings, "I don't like this house at all."

"Thank Merlin for that," he responded, "because I've been wishing we hadn't come here from the moment we first stepped into the house. Come on, let's go."

She nodded and followed him back to the entrance hall, where they took their leave of the large woman and left the building in considerable relief.

The next house was even less promising. Draco didn't like the bathroom and said the wallpaper was outdated. Ginny thought the situation of the house was not at all to her tastes. Neither could imagine themselves living there.

Four more houses were visited, and four more rejected. If it wasn't the fireplace that was ugly, it was the bedrooms being too small, or the home itself too ostentatious. Both wished for something comfortable yet still befitting their rank, though it was Draco who mostly insisted on the latter. Either way, they both knew they did not want a gloomy mansion.

"Only two more houses left to visit," Draco sighed, staring at the addresses on the last two slips of paper.

"Maybe one of those will be suitable," Ginny said, ever the optimistic.

She proved to be right. The very next house they looked at was everything that they could have hoped. The rooms were all decent sized, the bathrooms nice, the fireplaces tastefully designed and large enough for Flooing, and there was even a pretty garden, which had Ginny in raptures.

Draco smiled at her. "I don't think we need to look at the other house, do you?"

She only grinned up at him in reply. They had finally found their new home.


	20. One Step Too Far

**One Step Too Far**

It took a while before Draco and Ginny could leave the manor. The papers for the new property took longer to be finalised than Bootle had expected, and when it came to deciding upon furnishings it was nearly impossible for Draco and Ginny to reach an agreement. They had very different tastes in colour, it seemed. However, the couple did finally settle into their new home—even if Ginny still could not admire the seats in the living room, and Draco could only look with resignation at the table and chairs his wife had chosen for their dining room.

Preferences of furniture aside, the couple were very happy together and more than content with their new situation. Breaking away from Malfoy manor had been the best thing for them. For Ginny, it was just what she had needed to comfortably settle into being married to Draco. There was no Narcissa to nag at her, no Alexia to tell tales and be spiteful, no Armand to make crude jokes—though Ginny did find herself missing the cheeky Malfoy—and for the first time in a long time she could just relax and not worry about what others were thinking or expecting of her.

Her gaze shifted from her book to her husband's reclining form. Draco had discarded the book he had been reading some time ago and was now lying fully stretched out on the couch opposite her. The afternoon sun crept in through the large glass windows to give a gentle glow to his handsome features, and she could tell by his closed eyes and peaceful expression that he was either asleep or soon would be. No doubt he was tired from all the business meetings he had been forced to attend over the past few days. Bootle had certainly kept him busy.

Ginny smiled fondly to herself as she watched the blond. Draco always looked so adorable when he slept. There was something so endearing about his softened, unguarded features. Perhaps it was because he never seemed to show such gentle tranquillity when he was awake. There was always something to disturb the peace—a lot of that her fault—but there was nothing to ruin the moment now. It surprised her somewhat. Very rarely did they share each other's company in such a peaceful way. The silence should have been enough to put her on edge, but she wasn't feeling discomforted at all. She felt oddly relaxed and could not pinpoint any awkwardness in the aura surrounding them. Everything was comfortable, as if this was the way things were just meant to be—the two of them spending time together, no matter how simple that time was.

A clock chimed on the mantelpiece. Ginny blinked and glanced at the old timepiece. She was surprised to find that it was much later than she had thought.

"What time is it?" Draco asked groggily, sitting up from the seat to look at her through grey eyes heavy with sleep.

"Seven o'clock."

Draco nodded and stood up from the chair, stretching slightly to ease his muscles. "I'll go tell Tooky to get dinner ready."

Tooky was their new house elf. She was a rather quiet little elf and had much better manners than Binky, who was a little too pushy and nosy for Ginny's likings. It seemed that Tooky had once worked at Hogwarts and thus tended to stick by the rule of staying out of sight unless called. This suited Draco and Ginny just fine.

Ginny smiled up at him. "There's no need; I already did it. I was getting hungry," she added for explanation.

"Oh." He smothered a yawn and sat back down on the seat. "What are we having?"

"Lasagne and steamed vegetables."

"Good choice."

Ginny beamed with simple pride. For some reason she felt insanely happy that he was pleased with her selection.

Draco leaned back against the seat and let out a deep breath. He really did look tired, if a little worn out. That Bootle had been working him far too hard with those silly business meetings. She wasn't really sure what they were about—Draco had muttered something about shares and investments, but he usually lost her after that. Actually, when she thought about it, she wasn't even certain what it was that Draco did. He looked after his father's business—that she knew—but Malfoy Enterprises seemed so vast and to incorporate so much that it was impossible to narrow it right down, or so it seemed to Ginny. She guessed it didn't really matter. It was probably something tedious anyway. All excessively rich people usually did something tedious for their job, like the Tremaines who made quills for a living.

Tooky came in to announce that dinner was ready. Ginny placed her book down on the seat beside her, admitting that she was so famished that she didn't think she could have waited any longer for dinner regardless. Draco just laughed and walked with her to the dining hall where they situated themselves on either side of the table and commenced enjoying a very hearty meal together.

"Daphne has invited me to some kind of gathering of hers tomorrow," Ginny said, suddenly remembering her prospected engagement. "You don't mind if I go, do you?"

Draco lifted an eyebrow. "I don't mind, though I can't see why you would want to go. If there was ever a sillier female, it's Daphne Greengrass. Five minutes in her company is enough to drive any person of sense insane."

Ginny smiled as her ready sense of humour was tickled by the truth of this. "Oh, I don't deny she's as stupid as they come, but there's not an ounce of harm in her. Besides, she was the first of your friends to be nice to me—apart from Theodore, of course, but he's not a female—so I can only be grateful to her. You can't know how uncomfortable it is to be scorned and ignored by almost every woman you meet simply because you're a Weasley and dared to marry a Malfoy."

"Daphne is not my friend. She's merely an acquaintance that is impossible to get rid of, and you don't need her friendship to give you credit in other people's eyes."

"No, but I should like it all the same. I know she can be a bit fickle, but you're a man, Draco, and you've lived in this society your entire life. You don't understand my position. It's very different for females. Men are always so much more accepting."

Draco merely shrugged. "Do what you wish; it makes no difference to me. I'm merely surprised at your asking at all. You don't seem like the type to need permission to do anything."

Ginny let out a gurgle of laughter. "I'm not, but I thought it would be polite to at least let you know what I was doing in case you had already planned something for us."

"How thoughtful of you," Draco remarked with an amused smile, "but I haven't planned anything."

"Well, I guess that settles that then. Pass me the salt, would you?"

Draco obliged, though he teased her on her shocking table manners. Ginny gave him a saucy smile and said that she did not stand on ceremony with him.

"That's the privilege of being my husband, you see," she continued, her eyes twinkling. "You get to see all the sides to my character, even my less than desirable table manners."

"I suppose I should count myself fortunate."

"You should. You could hardly want me to call you 'My Lord' and treat you with cool civility like Titiana Maplewood treats her husband. He calls her an iceberg, which I don't think is a very nice thing to say about one's wife, but you can't deny that she's very reserved and is such a tiresomely moral creature. To think she actually said to me that falling in love was something only vulgar people do!"

Draco smiled at her indignation. "I take it Mrs Maplewood's sentiments do not agree with your tastes."

"Of course not! To call love vulgar is the most blasphemous thing I have ever heard in my life. Love," Ginny declared simply, "is what makes life worth living."

"I see I've married a romantic."

Ginny blushed and fiddled with the fork on her plate. "I suppose to you it sounds silly, but I—"

"Not at all."

She glanced up at him in surprise, not having taken him as a man who cared much for romantic notions. "Oh?"

He took a sip of his drink, his expression pensive. "Purebloods of my station have never put much stock in love, but I've seen marriages founded on love and I've seen what happens when they aren't. Though I may not go so far as to say that love is what makes life worth living, I do agree that it is important to one's happiness."

"And yet you agreed to a loveless marriage?"

Draco gave her a swift, searching glance. "Yes," he said finally, "I did."

"Do you regret it?"

The question was a bold one, and it took a moment for Draco to reply. He regarded her through his calm grey eyes as if deciding whether she even deserved to be answered.

"No, Ginevra," he said at last. "I do not regret it."

Ginny's brow puckered into a frown. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting him to say (having asked the question merely out of an insatiable curiosity), but his reply had left her feeling a trifle confused. She should be satisfied that he did not regret marrying her, but then he had agreed that he had gone into this marriage knowing it to be a loveless one right after also confessing that he thought love imperative to a happy marriage. That only left her with more questions than answers, and she stared at her husband searchingly, wondering just how cryptic that remark had been. As the only answer she could come up was so improbable that it had might as well be a mere conjecture of fantasy, she decided not to refine too much upon his words—or at least tried not to—and decided to change the subject.

"Theodore is a good friend of yours, right?"

Draco nodded, unruffled by this abrupt shift in conversation.

"Then you must know about his desire to marry Kitty."

"He has said something along those lines to me, yes."

"And what do you think?"

"I think," he responded deliberately, "that it is none of our business."

"But he's your friend! Surely you must care about his well-being and happiness!"

Draco placed down his knife and fork and stared at her frankly. "I know what you're going to say and the answer is no. I am not going to help you match-make them together."

Ginny could not be satisfied with this, and in the all-important act of selecting one of the delectable treats laid aside for her by the thoughtful Tooky, proceeded to tell him as much. Draco was not moved; apparently, he could be just as obstinate as she in cases like this.

"Well, I think it is very disagreeable of you," Ginny said unreasonably—for it could not be said that she would ever understand why a gentleman would have no desire to help match-make his friend. "You must see how well they would suit. She has just the right amount of liveliness to lighten that serious disposition of his, and he has more than enough sense to calm her silliness down. It's a perfect match!"

"Except, of course, that your friend has no wish to marry him," Draco responded with ruthless candidness. "I am not a woman, Ginevra; I am not going to get excited about helping my friend marry the girl of his desires when it appears that it will involve a lot of unnecessary exertion on my part. Theodore can love Katherine Cunningham all he likes, but whether she takes him or not is no concern of mine."

His wife seemed much put out by this rational—if not blunt—reply, but she was not one to give up at the first obstacle in her path. She was determined to help her friends, and equally determined to have her husband help her do it.

"Well, it will make it much easier for me if you did," she continued obstinately, "for I have already decided that I will help them. I just need an excuse to throw them together more, and you must see, Draco, that I can hardly be inviting Theodore everywhere when it is just Kitty and I. That is where I need you. You can invite him to come with us—you know, like a double date sort of thing."

Draco eyed her with a mixture of amusement and disdain. "You must have some very odd notions of me if you think that I am going to invite Theodore on a double date, as you so eloquently put it. I will do no such thing."

But three days later Draco was seen to be doing just that. How his wife had managed to bring him around her thumb was a matter entirely up for speculation. His cousin was inclined to believe that Draco had merely grown tired of his wife's cajoling ways and had hoped to silence her on the matter by agreeing to her wishes. Others—namely his wife—believed he had suffered a change of heart and had seen the good sense in her scheme. Whether Armand or Ginny was right, it was true that Draco did relent in his decision to not help Kitty and Theodore. He had cordially invited his friend—who naturally accepted—to see a play being shown at the theatre that night, a venue chosen for its casualness as well as its ability to leave two people alone without causing suspicion.

"For I won't have this opportunity wasted," Ginny said seriously, when discussing the project with her husband. "Sometimes you have to be ruthless to be kind, and I have no doubt that if we stay with them the whole time not a single word will be exchanged between them."

Draco could only laugh at this, but upon being asked what was so funny he merely shook his head, though the faintest of smiles lingered on his lips. The truth was that she had just reminded him forcibly of his own mother—who lived by the motto that ruthless kindness was the only way to ensure perfect results—and was much struck by the irony. As if living with a woman like that for most of his life was not enough, he had to go and marry one.

Upon learning that Theodore had accepted the invitation, Ginny duly rewarded her husband for his efforts by being in the sunniest of moods and promising never to bother him again with such matters. Draco was not foolish enough to believe her, having already gathered what she was like, and merely suggested that she not make empty promises. Ginny laughed, knowing his doubts to be well-founded, and then began to make plans for what they could do to allow their friends a chance to gain a deeper understanding with each other.

"For you must know Kitty is terribly intimidated by him," Ginny said frankly as they were getting ready for the play later that night. "We have to find a way to make her realise that he is not the ogre she thinks him. I've already laid some foundations, but perhaps you can help there?"

Her much amused husband then pointed out that Kitty was far more likely to be intimidated by himself than she was Theodore, being that he didn't think he had spoken so much as a word to her in his life. Ginny had to admit that he had a point.

"Oh well," she said brightly. "I guess we'll manage well enough. She has to get used to you anyway. Kitty is one of my best friends, and I will not have her being frightened of my husband."

Draco replied that her friend sounded like just the sort of stupid female he couldn't help but dislike. "I don't know what Theodore sees in her," he confessed with a sardonic curl of his lip. "She's nothing but a pretty featherhead with too much sensibility and not enough sense. Scared of me. And what can I do that should alarm her so much?"

Ginny's lips twitched. "It's not what you can do, it's just _you_. You're powerful in society, quite above her touch if we're to go by those pompous pureblood rules, but I do believe she is more terrified of the piercing looks you give her than anything else. You have a very disconcerting way of staring at people, did you know that?"

Her husband then levelled that singularly disconcerting gaze upon her, and an amused smile played on his lips. "Do I now? It's never seemed to bother you."

"No," she agreed, unruffled, "but then I'm made of much sterner stuff than my friend. I'm not scared of you, Draco, and I never have been."

"Thank Merlin for that. I would not like you half as much if you were."

"Yes, you would," she responded laughingly, "because I would not argue with you or do things that you would not like for fear that you would give me one of your infamous Malfoy glares! I wonder you did not think to find yourself a submissive wife. It would suit your autocratic temper quite nicely."

"Timid mice are not at all to my tastes. Just think how tedious it would be to never get that spice of opposition once in a while. You, I know, would not want your husband to always let you get your own way."

"No," Ginny agreed, much struck by this presentation. "I would think him horribly weak!"

"Just as I would find a submissive wife insipidly boring." He thought about it for a moment and added, "Not to mention irritating."

Ginny's dimple suddenly peeped up and a saucy smile came to her lips. "Good! Then next time I find a reason to argue with you, you can remember that you wanted the spice of opposition and can take it in good part."

"Ah, but aren't you forgetting that you didn't want a complaisant husband?" Draco responded, returning her smile with a teasing one of his own. "It wouldn't do for me to disappoint you now, would it?"

"You're impossible!" his wife declared, though her eyes twinkled in amusement.

"And you are an incorrigible nuisance to my peace, but since I have already exerted myself on your behalf, there is nothing for it but to see this scheme of yours to the end. Which reminds me, what have you decided to do to ensure tonight's success?"

"I won't be entirely sure until we get there," Ginny admitted with a shrug, "but it is important that they be left alone at least for a little while. I'm sure we can contrive to come up with some excuse to leave the box."

"Certainly," he agreed, relaxing very much at his ease against their bedroom wall, "but do you honestly think that will do anything?"

She sighed. "If it doesn't I shall have to contrive some other way to bring them together. Either way, I am determined that Theodore will marry Kitty. The silly goose just needs to get it into her head that he's perfect for her."

"Silly goose is certainly an apt description, but I still don't see why you care so much. You'd be much better applying your time to something else."

"I care because Kitty and Theodore are both my friends and it pains me to see them unhappy," she responded simply. "As for applying my time to something else—no way! I haven't had this much fun in years!"

Draco could only sigh in resignation. He doubted he would ever understand why females took so much delight in setting up other people's romances. It seemed entirely unnecessary in his eyes. Even his own mother had that taint of the romantic busy body in her, having taken it upon herself to choose him a wife—or, at least, hint rather unsubtly to whom she would prefer him to choose.

_Yes, but you can't complain about that now, can you?_ an inner voice reminded him slyly.

He doubted he would ever have considered Ginny as anything more than a nuisance to his peace—not that she still wasn't—before his mother had focused his attention on the vivacious redhead. It was his pride that had stopped him. He had been too proud, refusing to believe that there was a reason for why Ginny nagged at his brain so much. Consequently, he had deluded himself into believing up all kinds of ridiculous explanations to make sense of his odd, if somewhat irrational, thoughts and feelings. However, after so many months of being forced into her company, and so many weeks afterwards of being married to her, he realised that he cared about her far more than he could ever have expected or, indeed, wished.

Ginny had somehow wormed herself into his previously untouched heart and there she remained, firmly established in its erratic beats and songs. When she smiled, his heart responded in kind; when she was in pain, his heart felt her pain too; and when she touched him, however innocently, that beating organ would rush with an unexplainable nervousness—not out of discomfort, but from a burst of excited anticipation. He couldn't understand it, didn't even know if he wanted to understand it, but for all his confusion, frustration and hopelessness, he knew without a doubt that she was precious to him. He did not even want to imagine what life would be like if he had not married her. The thought was literally frightening.

Draco rested his eyes on his wife. She was leaning in close to the mirror and expertly applying lipstick to her lips. Upon noticing his gaze, her roguish dimple peeped out and her eyes, always expressive, began to dance.

"Yes?" she queried. "Would you like to wear some lipstick, too?"

A wry smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "I can only think of one way in which I will ever allow you to put even a smudge of lipstick on me. Since that is a highly improbable event, no, Ginevra, I do not want to wear your lipstick."

Ginny chuckled and stepped away from the mirror. "Improbable because you believe I will not do it?"

"I don't believe. I know you would not do it."

She moved closer to him with a mischievous smile and her eyes dancing more playfully than ever. Draco watched her progress a little warily, knowing from the warning signs that she was brewing mischief, though he did not move from his position against the wall.

"Now that's where you're wrong," Ginny refuted, stopping directly before him. "You should know that I have an incurable dislike of people deciding how I am to behave; it always makes me want to do the opposite. Besides—" she leaned forward on her tiptoes and met his eyes, her mischievous smile even more pronounced "—I wouldn't miss the opportunity of seeing you wear lipstick for the world."

And with that teasing rejoinder, she closed what little distance was left between them and pressed her lips firmly against his.

Draco had known what she was going to do from the moment she had leant up on her tiptoes, but that still did not take away the initial shock of feeling her lips, slightly silky from the lipstick, interlocked with his own. His heart, which had quickened only slightly when she had moved closer, now drummed loudly against his chest; it took all of his self-control to remain still and not respond to the warm pressure of her lips as he instinctively wanted.

Slowly, Ginny pulled her lips away, and her laughing eyes caught his for a moment as she lowered herself to her normal height. "Ah, the picture was all that I thought it would be," she observed mock-seriously, "though I don't think that particular shade suits your pallor."

Draco wiped the smudges of lipstick from his mouth with a scowl. Not only did his pride feel severely wounded right now, but he also found himself in a very awkward position. Kisses, no matter how harmlessly they may have been bestowed, had a naturally undesirable impact over his emotions. Ginny was off-limits to him, and he was not impressed by her thoughtlessness in tempting him in such a way. He was just a man, after all, and was not made of stone.

"You're a shameless flirt, you know that?" he muttered, pushing past her to escape the seductively close proximity in which they were now positioned.

"Why, Draco, surely you aren't accusing me of flirting with you?" Ginny asked in her most innocent voice.

"You know very well that you are," he snapped, not in the mood for her games.

An infectious gurgle of laughter broke free from her lips. "Other men usually take it in good part, you know. They like it when a woman flirts with them."

He stared at her hard. "Don't you care that you've been flirting with me? You do remember who I am, right?"

"Yes, Draco, I do remember who you are," Ginny responded with another laugh, "but what can I do? I don't realise I'm doing it; it just sort of happens. I assure you that I didn't mean to flirt with you, and I will try not to do so again, but I just get so carried away ..."

"Oh, and I suppose you're also going to claim that you did not mean to kiss me but that it just happened," Draco retorted sarcastically.

"Not at all. I did that quite intentionally."

"_What_?"

"But, Draco!" she cried in mock-surprise. "You said yourself that there was only one way you would ever let me put lipstick on you. You must see that I had no choice. How else was I going to achieve my great ambition?"

"I didn't expect you to actually do it," he expostulated, quite put out.

"I know," she said with an unrepentant grin. "That's why I did it. The temptation to see you so stunned was just too much to resist."

"You have no decency at all," her husband responded severely.

"Now that is unjust. I have a lot of decency." She began walking away, stopped, and then threw him another of her saucy smiles over her shoulder. "Just not when I'm around you."

Draco once again found himself at a loss for words and could only glower at her retreating back, inwardly finding solace in calling her a lot of colourful names, including a brazen minx. She was becoming a right handful, and not for the first time did he wonder why it was that he was so attached to her. She really was a shocking flirt; though, when he considered the matter he supposed it didn't really matter if she was flirting with him. Now if it were other men, he would definitely have something to say about that ...

"Are you coming to the theatre, Draco, or do you plan to stand there glaring at me like some angry waxwork all night?"

Draco blinked, mumbled something that she might have taken as an apology, and followed her out of the house.

**OOOO**

The little quartet that gathered at the theatre could not have been said to be the most comfortable party. Theodore, though madly in love with Kitty, was not a particularly expressive fellow and could not find the words to put his love at ease; Kitty, though curious about the moody gentleman thanks to Ginny's sly intervention, was still feeling very intimidated by his presence; and Draco, having tried to be polite to Kitty for his wife and friend's sake, soon fell to the more tempting pastime of amusing himself at her expense. Ginny found herself getting increasingly frustrated with all of them, but it was Draco who received the brunt of her ire. As soon as the curtain had lifted and distracted their companions' attention, she took the first opportunity to pinch his arm and whisper fiercely in his ear, "Stop being such a prat and leave Kitty alone!"

"But I'm not doing anything," he whispered back, and an annoying smirk flittered across his lips. "In fact, I have been behaving with the utmost politeness towards her."

"You've been mocking her this entire time, and you know it!"

"Yes, but does she?"

Ginny pursed her lips. "That is my friend you're talking about."

"I know, and I find her charmingly stupid."

Seeing that his wife was about to get very angry, Draco placed a hand on her shoulder and met her eyes steadily, if a little apologetically. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. I won't tease her anymore, but you know it's almost impossible not to. She's quite ridiculous."

"Kitty might not be an intellectual, but you will not find a nicer girl in this stupid place. Besides, even if _she_ may not be able to recognise that you're secretly laughing at her, Theodore _has_, and I can assure you that he is not happy with you."

"That's his problem for falling in love with a featherhead."

"_Draco_!" Ginny growled warningly.

He smiled disarmingly and removed his hand from her shoulder. "Now, Ginny, you don't want them to notice that we're arguing, do you? I think even the featherhead might notice that."

She glared at him, choked at the absurdly priggish expression on his face, and then fell into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Draco smiled to himself, rather pleased that he had managed to get her back into a good humour and thus avoid anymore of her scolds. He thoughtfully patted her back to help her breathe better.

"Careful, Ginny," he murmured, "you'll have all the old ladies glaring at you in a minute if you don't quieten down."

"It's your fault!" she choked out between gasps. "You looked so ridiculous!"

"Is everything alright?" Theodore asked, staring at the two in surprise.

The play was not exactly the most humorous of tales, which made Ginny's giggling rather out of place.

Draco nodded. "We're fine, or at least Ginny will be once she stops laughing."

"What was so funny?" Kitty asked curiously.

Ginny and Draco exchanged glances and then turned back to their companions.

"It was nothing, really," Ginny said carelessly. "It was just one of those 'you have to be there to find it funny' things."

"Oh, okay."

The four fell silent once more and continued to watch the play, but, truth be told, Ginny found it rather tedious. The acting was terrible and the spells that had been used for special effects were so shoddily done that it quite spoiled her enjoyment. She was glad when the first interval came.

Ginny glanced towards Theodore and Kitty—who had been ruthlessly seated next to each other by her own machinations—and felt that nagging frustration creep through her. They had barely spoken a word since sitting down, and though it was not really expected that audience members should talk during plays, she had hoped that the two would at least try to converse more with each other during the interval. This was expecting too much of them, it seemed. Theodore was of a naturally taciturn disposition, and though he did make some comments to Kitty, it was clear that she was still feeling too uncomfortable to do much more than mumble monosyllabic answers. It was enough to put Ginny out of patience with the both of them, for such a spirited woman could hardly be expected to understand why some people found it difficult to converse with others in such situations. She and Draco, after all, had usually resorted to heated arguments when all else failed.

Determined more than ever to find a way to leave the two alone in the box, Ginny suddenly claimed that she was feeling faint and desired her husband to take her out to get some fresh air. Kitty and Theodore both expressed their concern for her health and asked whether it would be better if she went home; they could easily see another play when she was not feeling so ill.

"No, no, that won't be necessary," Ginny said resolutely. "It's just the heat, but I'll be better once I have some fresh air."

"Are you sure?" Theodore asked in his serious voice.

Ginny nodded. "Quite sure. I'm just not used to these stuffy rooms." She cast her eyes to her husband and gave him a speaking glance. "Draco, will you accompany me?"

Draco stood up obediently from his chair and placed what appeared to be a supporting arm around his wife's waist. "Of course." He turned his gaze back to the other occupants of their box and gave them a small smile. "I'm sure it is just the heat, but if it is something more serious I shall, naturally, take her home. Please do not allow our absence to spoil your enjoyment of the play. I'm sure Ginny would not wish that."

Ginny immediately put in her agreement to this plan and hoped that they would not worry their heads over a troublesome creature like herself. She then allowed Draco to guide her out of the box.

"Well," Draco said, prudently withdrawing his arm from her waist once they were safe from prying eyes, "you got your wish. They are now alone in the box, though what you imagine that will do is beyond me."

"Possibly nothing," Ginny said with a shrug, "but then it's also possible that they'll try to talk to each other out of mere obligation. It is an interval, after all; they can't just sit there in silence."

"They might," Draco intoned pessimistically.

Ginny peeped through the curtain to see what was happening back in the box. She was disappointed to see that both Theodore and Kitty were staring in opposite directions, clearly at a loss on what to say to each other.

"What are they doing?" Draco asked, coming to stand behind her so that he too could peer through the curtain.

Her heart gave a funny flutter in her chest at his sudden proximity but she firmly ignored the feeling. She had kissed him full on the mouth earlier. Why should his proximity bother her now? But that was the way it always was for her. If she initiated the act she would generally feel nothing at all, but when he did something her volatile heart would start racing in that peculiar way she was beginning to associate only with him.

Turning her face to look up at him, she sighed. "Nothing. They're just sitting there."

"Figures. Theo always was terrible with women."

"And I suppose you're just spectacular?"

"Not really," he admitted, "but then I'm not as bad as him. He really doesn't have a clue."

She smiled slightly and peered back through the curtain. "I think you're right. He doesn't seem to be doing too well right now, that's for sure."

"Why? What's he doing?"

"Still nothing. He's staring at his hands, and she's gazing blankly at the stage."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand how you think this constitutes a perfect match. They clearly have nothing in common."

"It's true that they don't have much in common, but they have enough to be happy with each other. It's all a matter of finding the right balance. Once she gets over this absurd timidity you'll see what I mean."

"If she gets over it, that is," Draco piped in with another of his gloomy statements.

Ginny rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her two friends. Feeling rather curious himself, Draco leaned over his wife's shoulder and watched the spectacle unfolding from behind the curtain.

**OOOO**

Kitty squirmed on her seat and gave a sidelong glance at her companion. She wished Ginny and Draco would hurry up and come back. This was just too awkward. How could she possibly be expected to make small talk with a man who she knew wanted to marry her? It was bad enough having her parents declare that she was going to marry Theodore Nott even though she had barely spoken a dozen words to him, and then she'd had to suffer the torture of being pushed into his company as often as her meddling parents could manage. Now she had to be inflicted with his presence again, except this time it was thanks to her friend being friends with him.

"Oh, I have no luck at all," Kitty groaned.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing," she replied hastily, flushing a brilliant shade of pink. She really had to watch this talking to herself habit. It was beginning to get embarrassing.

Theodore looked at her a little doubtfully and then relaxed back in his chair, all ready to resume his silent stupor. Kitty began to feel increasingly annoyed.

If he loved her, as Ginny claimed that he did, then why on earth didn't he bother to try and talk to her more? Did he really expect her to like a silent statue who never showed the slightest trace of interest in her? All she knew was that he wanted to marry her—without even asking her feelings on the matter, she might add—but not once had he ever hinted to _her_ that he had any more love for her than he did for that garish pot plant positioned beside her chair.

Her frustration deepened. Who did he think he was expecting her to marry him? He had nothing to recommend himself to her attention. He was not handsome, though she supposed there was something pleasant about his face. He did not flirt, laugh or joke with her like her other suitors did. He was too serious for his own good, barely spoke above a word to anybody—in fact, he was so unlike every other man she had shown interest in that it was no small wonder she had been surprised to discover he had been hinting to her parents that he was contemplating marriage with her.

And yet she couldn't deny that she was curious. Ever since the ball she had found herself thinking about the brooding gentleman far more than was seemly. It was like a new kind of torture, only this time self-inflicted. His face would flash before her eyes quite independently, and then she would wonder if it were really true what Ginny had said about him being in love with her, and a new wave of confusing emotions would envelop her heart. Indeed, the very fact that Theodore was so different to the other men of her acquaintance was what made him stand out. He was something mysterious, something intriguing, but at the same time she also knew that he was about as animated as her grandmother's stuffed owl—creepy thing that it was.

That was where her frustration lay. She was a naturally lively person, and though she was intrigued by the thought that Theodore Nott might love her, he was still just as silent, boring and serious as he always was. She couldn't love someone like that.

"Are you enjoying the play?" Kitty asked finally.

Anything had to be better than sitting in this suffocating silence, though talking to him was not exactly her idea of thrilling either. His hazel eyes darted up to hers and a somewhat surprised expression came to his face. Apparently, he had not expected her to speak to him.

"I guess it is okay," he said carefully, almost cautiously.

"I think it's quite boring myself," Kitty confessed with incurable honesty. "I keep getting confused on who all the people are, and the storyline is so ridiculously complicated that there seems to be no storyline at all!"

Theodore chuckled—a surprise in itself—and smiled in sympathy with her frustration. "I know what you mean. It is a little ridiculous."

Kitty stared at him through wide eyes. He had actually laughed, smiled, _and_ spoken more than three words to her all in one go. It was a miracle!

"I don't know why Draco chose it," Theodore continued, a frown creeping onto his face.

"Oh, he didn't choose it. Ginny did, but I daresay she didn't know what the play was about."

"Probably not," Theodore agreed. "She's not really the type to read into things ("_How rude_!" Ginny exclaimed with an indignant huff). Then again, it is hard to tell how good something is just from the synopsis."

Kitty shrugged, not really having considered the matter before, and promptly changed the subject. If he was willing to talk, she was not going to waste it on boring plays that didn't interest her in the slightest.

It took a while for them both to find a topic that interested them. Oddly enough, that topic came in the form of books. Kitty, though not a great reader of history or other such 'intellectual' literature, was an avid reader. She admitted rather shyly that she wanted to write her own collection of romance novels one day. Theodore, much to Kitty's astonishment, confessed that he was also hoping to write a book and had already started working on it. Of course, he thought it would need quite a lot of polishing before he would be comfortable enough to let anyone read what he had so far.

Nothing could have guaranteed Kitty's attention more than this simple confession. Gone were her boredom, frustration, and worries about an arranged marriage. She was intrigued and wanted to know everything about this book he was writing. Theodore, only too grateful to have the object of his heart's desire showing so much animated interest in him, was more than happy to oblige. By the time Ginny judged it right to re-enter the box, the two were well on their way to reaching an easy understanding with one another. Kitty and Theodore might not be confessing their undying love to each other any time soon, but Ginny knew it was only a matter of time before Kitty realised that something was there.

Ginny was quite certain that her friend already had feelings for the quiet gentleman; it was just a matter of Kitty realising how deep those feelings actually went. Only time could do that, but Ginny was pleased to note that she and Draco's labours had not been wasted.

Tonight had truly been a success.

**OOOO**

Ginny and Draco returned to their home later that night in high spirits. The play itself had been a dull affair, but they had gleaned much entertainment from watching their friends stumble their way into a close friendship. It was amazing how quickly Kitty and Theodore had hit it off once they had both got over their natural awkwardness.

"I'm just going to get changed," Ginny said, moving towards her personal dressing room, which was attached to their bedroom.

Draco nodded absently and continued with whatever it was he was doing by his dressing table. She noticed with a scowl that it was more paper work from Bootle.

"Not more business!" she moaned, quite sick of it all.

"Just be thankful that it falls on my shoulders and not yours," Draco responded. "And, yes, it is more paperwork. I forgot all about it. I suppose I'll have to get it done before tomorrow."

She sighed heavily, more for Draco's sake than for her own. It looked like it was going to be another late night, and Merlin knew that he was not getting enough sleep as it was. She had a right mind to go and talk to Bootle and tell him to stop overloading her husband with boring work. Still, there was nothing she could do about that right now, so Ginny simply put the matter aside and entered her dressing room. It was a relief to take out all the pins in her hair, for the pressure was finally beginning to give her a headache.

Running a hand through the thick red strands to ease the tension in her scalp, Ginny threw open the cupboards and started rifling through her nightwear. For reasons quite unknown to herself, she automatically moved towards the more risqué items in her closet. This was a first in itself, for these particular articles of clothing had been chosen by 'well-meaning' friends to help speed things along in the baby department. It wasn't that the nightgowns were exactly _revealing_—though some of them certainly were, if the flimsy bits of lace could even be called sleeping attire—but they were certainly more alluring to the eye than the tent nightdresses she had been favouring over the past few weeks.

Her eyes alighted on a silken nightdress of emerald green. This one would do. Pulling it off the rack, Ginny quickly got undressed and then changed into the nightdress. It barely came halfway down her thigh and fell in a rather low scoop at her breasts. Two thin straps held the nightdress together, criss-crossing loosely at the back, but despite all of this, Ginny found it very comfortable to wear.

She walked back into the main bedroom while humming a soft tune and made her way towards the bed. Draco was already in his usual choice of pyjamas (loose pants) and was seated on his side of the bed, rummaging through the dreaded papers. He glanced up at her briefly, not really paying much attention, but then his gaze flicked back to Ginny in stunned disbelief. For a moment he just stared at her, not really sure if he could believe his eyes or not. Surely that goddess in green was not his wife! But then there was that familiar red hair and, unmistakably, those were the freckles he had come to love. He had just never seen her look so—so sexy?

Ginny smiled innocently down at him and tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. "What? Is there something on my face?"

"No," Draco said in a distant voice. "No, there's nothing on your face ..."

_But her body._

He swallowed and abruptly transferred his gaze back to his papers. The documents were much safer, though much less alluring. Somehow, he just knew that his wife was going to be the death of him. There was only so much a man could take, and she was already pushing his limits. Didn't she have any idea how undeniably enticing she looked right now? He almost wished she would go back to the tent dresses.

Quite heedless to this hormonal struggle, Ginny clambered onto the bed and slid under the covers. She attempted to go to sleep, but the sound of rustling paper and Draco muttering under his breath made this quite impossible. She ended up giving up on sleep and instead contented herself by watching Draco work.

He looked very handsome in that moment—more so than he usually did. His pale skin glowed with warm, golden hues from the candlelight, and his grey eyes stood out more clearly than ever. His hair looked perfect as always, falling in soft strands around his angular face, and she found herself quite fascinated by the way his strong mouth curved down into a frown as he pondered over a particularly gruelling paper. Without even realising what she was doing, Ginny reached up and pushed the strands of blond away from his eyes, allowing her fingertips to trail along his forehead and down his cheek in a soft caress. Draco froze and stared at her in some surprise, if not a little warily. She had never touched him like that before.

Their eyes met and, because it seemed like the most natural thing to do, Ginny leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. At first Draco sat perfectly immobile, too stunned to do much more. Then his hand slowly found its way up to her cheek, tilting her face more towards his, and he was returning the urgent pressure of her lips with all the fervour of a man who has long denied his passions. Ginny seemed to let out a long, contented sigh, even though she made no sound at all. She placed her hand around his neck to pull him closer, dreamily losing herself in the kiss. That was all the encouragement Draco needed. Letting his hand trail caressingly up her bare thigh—eliciting a gasp of surprised pleasure from his wife—Draco deepened the kiss to breath-taking heights and shifted so that he was leaning directly over her. A dizzying rush of emotions passed between them on the electric current of their passion, surging through their interlocked lips and tingling through their bodies in a rush of exhilaration and newly discovered pleasure.

Hearts raced, blood pounded, hands wandered, and it almost seemed as if nothing could stop the tide of unrestrained passion that had been awakened, when a thought suddenly intruded in on Draco's pleasure and remained annoyingly obstinate in its warning. Repressing a sigh, Draco reluctantly pulled himself away from Ginny and tried hard to ignore the different voices that now argued with him for his decision. His body was the most vocal of all and did not try to be subtle in its disappointment. Ginny, looking very breathless and with her cheeks becomingly flushed, made a small noise of protest and raised confused and slightly frustrated eyes to his.

"What's wrong?" she demanded, clearly agreeing with Draco's body that his behaviour was not at all to her likings.

Draco would have been amused—the irony in itself was highly entertaining when one considered how much she had been against the two of them having sex—were it not for the fact that he now found himself in a very uncomfortable situation.

"We can't do this," he said, even as he cursed his conscience for making him speak thusly.

"Of course we can," Ginny said recklessly, and leaned up to kiss him.

Draco gripped her by her shoulders and held her back. "I'm serious, Ginny! Just think about what you're doing for a moment. You're going to really regret this tomorrow; you know you will, and I don't want that on my conscience. You were just lost in the moment, but once you get over that I can assure you that you will be glad I stopped us before things got too out of hand."

"Maybe I want things to get out of hand! Maybe I don't care anymore!"

"You say that now but you don't really mean it."

"I do mean it!" She pressed herself closer to him, heedless to the strong hold he had on her shoulders. "I'm ready now."

"I'm not going to have sex with you, Ginevra," Draco said firmly, but not at all unkindly.

Ginny's face burned with mortification. He had rejected her. After all of that and he had simply rejected her. She turned her face away in painful embarrassment, her lips quivering slightly with the crushing shame she now felt. This was not how she had expected things to turn out, and all she could think was that she must have done something wrong. Maybe she just wasn't good enough for him.

"Am I not attractive enough for you?" she asked in a small voice, which pathetically wavered with suppressed tears.

"It's not like that at all!" Draco exclaimed, quite horrified that she was taking his refusal this way.

It was anything but because she was not attractive enough for him. She was so damn beautiful and tempting that even now he felt like throwing his scruples to the wind, rolling on top of her, and finishing what he had started.

"T-then what?" Ginny stammered, becoming increasingly emotional by the second.

"I just don't want you to wake up tomorrow and feel like you've made a mistake," he admitted, releasing the hold he had on her shoulders. "You say you're ready, but you don't even know _what_ you're saying right now. You were just lost in the moment—we both were—and I don't want us to ruin everything just because we couldn't control our hormones for one night."

She sniffed a little pathetically, still with her face averted. Her embarrassment was beginning to overwhelm her desire and that was bringing a very sobering and unwelcome effect on her thoughts. Draco sighed in some frustration—he was never one to deal well with emotional woman—and ran a restless hand through his hair.

"Look, Ginny. You must know that I'm not trying to hurt you. Believe me when I say that if I wasn't so worried that you would kick up a fuss tomorrow, I would not hesitate to give you what you want right now, but I just—"

"I know," she interjected softly. "You don't need to say anything more."

He stared at her searchingly for a moment. She didn't sound very happy; she didn't look it either, but before he could ask her if she was all right, Ginny stood up from the bed and impatiently wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"I think I'll sleep somewhere else tonight," she said in an attempt at nonchalance, but only ended up looking more pathetic than ever.

She gave him a rather tremulous smile and, not even waiting for him to reply, quickly left the room. Draco let out a deep breath once the door had shut behind her. He closed his eyes in a wince at his own stupidity and banged his head back against the wall. That had gone very badly, and even more troubling was the question of what was going to happen now.

Kissing, touching, and anything else of a more intimate nature had been absolutely forbidden between them, both through spoken and unspoken agreements. Those agreements had just been breached in every possible way—except one—and even though Ginny had been the instigator of the kiss, he was the one who had taken things to much less innocent paths. Neither was blameless here, but both would have to suffer the consequences of this night. He just couldn't help but wonder what those consequences would be.


	21. Tangled

**Tangled**

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"

Ginny burst through the door to the guest room and collapsed on the bed in tears. She gripped the pillow tight, fighting against the sobs that threatened to break free. What a fool she had been. What a complete and utter fool.

"I was practically begging him to have sex with me," she whispered, ashamed at how desperate she had made herself appear.

Never did she think that she could want a man so much as she had in that moment. It had all been so strange and wonderful, so divinely intoxicating. She'd never felt such deep passion for anyone in her life, and even now her body seemed to tingle with the heady pleasure his caressing hands had inspired.

A rosy blush stole her cheeks. There had well and truly been nothing innocent about the way he had touched her. For a man who was supposedly so modest and chaste, he had not held back from having his fill of her. Of course, she had not minded at the time, but that was before she had known he was going to abruptly stop and leave her in this frustrating state of desperate longing and sexual need. She understood why he had done it, of course, but that didn't mean she had to like it. He had rejected her when she had been all but offering herself to him on bended knee. It was rather difficult to appreciate the reason behind his rejection when he had made her feel so utterly ridiculous.

Still, Ginny was not an unreasonable girl. She knew that he had been right in saying that she had been lost in the moment. He had also been right in assuming that she had not really known what she was saying when he had pulled away from her—she having been too distressed in having her desires thwarted to really consider what words were coming out of her mouth. However, he had been wrong in thinking that she had wanted him only out of lust, and it was frankly insulting that he should assume so. Just what kind of woman did he think she was? Perhaps _he_ had given in to his hormones, but _she _certainly had not. At least, she didn't think she had.

Yes, she knew she was attracted to him, and it was also true that there had been moments when she had felt a powerful and very physical pull towards him, but the thought that she had acted tonight only out of something so base as lust just didn't sit right with her. There had to be more to it than that. She just couldn't believe that she would throw in the towel so easily after so many weeks of keeping her distance simply because her hormones had got the better of her; though, there was no denying that her physical desires had played an important part.

In any case, whether she had acted out of lust or from something substantially deeper, it was true that she now found herself in a very uncomfortable position. Tomorrow, whether she liked it or not, she would have to face him again. He was her husband and he would always be there. Even if the subject never came up, she would always be aware that, for one night, they had crossed into those dangerous waters of passion and pleasure of which they had agreed never to enter—and not out of duty to his parents, like she thought would be the case, but because they had both undeniably wanted it.

Ginny let out a frustrated groan. Why did everything have to get so complicated? How could a simple kiss change so much? That one kiss—that one seemingly innocent and harmless kiss had truly changed everything. She would never be able to look at Draco the same way again. He could never be just her friend and husband; he had been irreversibly transformed into something infinitely more tempting and desirable.

If only there was someone she could turn to for advice.

She had admitted no one into her confidence to divulge the truth about her marriage, but now she felt the need for a friend's advice all too well. She just didn't know who. There was Kitty, of course, but as much as Ginny liked Kitty, she just didn't know if she could share this with her friend. Kitty had lived the ways of pureblood society her whole life; there were certain things that she just would not understand. No, what Ginny needed was someone whom she could trust, someone who would understand. She needed—

"Hermione!" Ginny called, bursting through the fireplace some seconds later, after travelling by Floo to her friend's flat. "Hermione, I need your help!"

Two people locked in a passionate embrace abruptly broke apart and glanced towards Ginny with identical expressions of alarm on their faces. The female, a young woman with bushy brown hair, blushed upon finding herself caught out and quickly stepped away from her lover. Ginny had no trouble recognising him, even without the lightning bolt scar peeping out from under his fringe.

"Uh … should I come back later?" Ginny asked, backing towards the fireplace.

She had not expected to be greeted by her two friends kissing fervently upon arrival. It was all very uncomfortable.

"N-no, it's fine," Harry said, recovering from his initial shock. "I was just leaving.

He leaned down and whispered something in Hermione's ear, nodded in a friendly way to Ginny, and then took his leave much in the manner of one fleeing with his tail between his legs. It was clear that he had no wish to be bombarded with searching questions as to why he had been kissing his best friend of nearly ten years.

Ginny raised a quizzical eyebrow at Hermione. "And how long has that been going on?"

Hermione had the grace to blush. "Not long now, but enough of that. You didn't come here to discuss my relationship with Harry. What's happened? You look like you've been crying."

"I have." Ginny sighed, remembering the reason for why she had been forced to intrude so rudely upon her friend's hospitality. She went to sit down on the bed and then paused, giving a quick glance at Hermione. "You and Harry haven't been, you know—"

"What? Oh, no," Hermione hastily denied, and a fierce blush warmed her cheeks. "We haven't—I mean it's only been a few days now, and I—"

"Spare me the details. I'll trust your word for it," Ginny said with a laugh, and took a seat on the bed, now assured that it was perfectly safe.

Hermione sat down next to her, hands neatly folded on her lap, and stared at Ginny with all her usual business-like abruptness. "So, what did happen? I can tell by your apparel that it must have been something to do with that good-for-nothing husband of yours."

Ginny glanced down at herself and realised that she was still wearing the skimpy nightdress. She almost felt like laughing, but instead an odd sort of hiccup escaped her throat and a few tears burned at her eyes.

"I—I kissed him, Hermione."

"Well, that's nothing to cry about. He is your husband; I suppose it's only natural you should kiss him."

"No, it's not," Ginny said, lowering her head. "Our marriage is not exactly what people have been led to believe."

"What do you mean?"

Ginny took in a deep breath. "Well, you see, it all started when Draco was asked by his parents to find a wife…"

For several minutes Ginny unburdened her soul. She explained how and why she and Draco had come to be married, how they had battled it out day after day until they had finally come to a truce, and how things had slowly progressed to the point where she had begun to see him as one of her closest friends. Then she confessed what had happened that very night.

"So now you see the predicament I'm in," Ginny sighed, once she had finished her long and somewhat involved recital.

"Well, I can understand how this would make things awkward for the both of you," Hermione mused, "but don't you think that you should be happy he did stop? If it's true what you say then you should be thankful that he still respects your wish to not be intimate with him until you're ready—and I must admit," she added in some reluctance, "I never thought he would be so thoughtful."

"He's always thoughtful!" Ginny retorted. "I know he's not like those other men who like to flaunt their niceness in front of everyone, but even if Draco is not necessarily the nicest guy in the world, at least I know he's always genuine! He may bumble through his words when trying to comfort me, and he may not have a clue when it comes to giving people hugs, but he's cared for me in his own way, and I could not have asked for anything more than that!"

Hermione closed her mouth, which had dropped open while she had listened to this impassioned defence of a man she had long considered a heartless brat. Then she leaned forward to peer searchingly at Ginny's face. "You aren't in love with him, are you?"

Ginny was all ready to disclaim such an absurd suggestion when she suddenly paused, thinking about the grey-eyed man that was her husband. "I—I think I am."

As this pronouncement was just as astonishing to the speaker as it was to the listener, both girls were silent for a moment as they tried to digest just what this meant. For Ginny, it was all rather overwhelming, yet she knew that she had been telling the truth. Somewhere, somehow, she had fallen in love with the one man she had never dreamed that she could, and it had taken someone actually asking her that forbidden question for her to realise that she had. The words had just instinctively slipped out of her mouth.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked upon regaining the use of her tongue.

Ginny was not offended by this open disbelief. If anything she was amused, knowing that her own reaction would have been much the same had she not been so certain that she was right. Draco Malfoy was not the kind of man with whom one usually fell in love. He was rude, cynical, useless with women, and far too arrogant for his own good. There was nothing sweet about him, and even his icy good looks were more in par with the handsome villain than the noble, romantic hero. He would never be that fairy tale prince of whom she had so often dreamed—and whom Julian encapsulated so perfectly—yet for all of Draco's faults and failings, she knew that this was love. This was real, irrevocable love.

"I know it sounds crazy," Ginny said, "but I really do think that I'm in love with him. I know he's not perfect, and I know he never will be, but I've realised now that I don't need and never wanted perfection. I just want him. All of him—even the annoying habits that make me want to hex him."

Hermione's eyes goggled in open astonishment.

"Honestly, Hermione," Ginny continued, unable to stop the fond smile that spread across her lips, "if you could know how much I have wanted to hit him with a good curse over these past few months! He can be so arrogant, so unfeeling, and it just about drives me insane! But then I remember those moments when he was kind to me (even when I was being a right brat in return); I remember the awkward words of comfort he gave me when I was upset; I remember all the times he protected me and stood up for me against his friends and family. I remember everything, and then my anger fades away and I realise just how lucky I am to have a husband like him."

She met her friend's dark brown eyes frankly. "So, yes, I'm sure that I do love him because even though I know that he may not be everything I could have ever dreamed of like all those silly romance novels always say your true love should be, I do know that he is enough for me. I know that I can trust him, and I know that I love him. In the end, that is all that matters."

"When did this happen?" Hermione asked faintly, looking just a little overwhelmed by Ginny's confession.

"I don't know," Ginny admitted. "It's all been coming on so gradually that I don't think there ever was a time when I suddenly loved him. It was only when you asked me that I actually realised for myself how I truly felt, but it's possible I've been in love with him long before then. It wouldn't surprise me. I've been so blind—so wrong about so many things. I suppose I almost deserve to have him see me only as a friend after all the stupid things I have said and done."

"You don't think he loves you?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. I want to believe that he does, but he's never really given me any hints that he might. He's quite reserved, not to mention terrible at expressing his feelings, but I do know that he at least cares about me. He wouldn't have stopped us tonight if he didn't, let alone half the things he has done for me over these past few months."

Hermione frowned. "This is more complicated than I thought."

"Tell me about it!" Ginny said feelingly.

"I don't think that you should be beating yourself up over tonight, though."

Ginny sighed. "It's a bit hard not to. I feel like a complete idiot."

"Naturally. He did reject you, but perhaps this wasn't such a bad thing, after all."

"How so?"

Hermione stood up from the bed and started pacing up and down, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Just how eager was he to respond when you started kissing him?"

Ginny blushed. "Um, well he didn't exactly kiss me straight away."

"Then that means he must have felt some hesitation right from the start."

"What difference does it make?" Ginny grumbled. "He rejected me in the end."

Hermione laughed. "It makes all the difference in the world. If he was hesitating right from the beginning, it means that he was fully aware of what he was doing when he finally did kiss you."

"I don't see how that makes my being rejected any better," Ginny muttered. "If anything, that makes it worse."

"Don't you see?" Hermione exclaimed in some impatience. "It means that he wanted to be with you! He wanted _you_."

"I still don't—"

"Merlin, Ginny, you're married to Malfoy and know him much better than I do, but you can't figure this one out?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Malfoy is not the kind of man to lose control of his emotions. Sure, the rein he has over his temper isn't the greatest, but I think I am right in saying that when it comes to things like this, he can show the emotion of a robot if he really wanted to."

"What's a robot?" Ginny asked, momentarily diverted.

"Never mind," Hermione said hastily. "I forgot I was talking to a pureblood witch for a minute. In any case, the point is that he wanted to kiss you back, and I don't think it was just because he's a guy and it's only natural that he should find it hard to resist a pretty woman who's all too willing to be with him. You can't tell me that he's never had a beautiful woman throw herself at him before."

Ginny knew this to be true. Alexia—who was perhaps the most beautiful woman she had ever set eyes on—had been one of those women. That Alexia had not succeeded in seducing her cousin spoke volumes for Draco's self-control.

"Fine, I see your point," she conceded. "But why did he reject me, then?"

"Now that I don't know," Hermione admitted. "He obviously wanted you, so it seems that something must have stopped him from going through with it. From what you've said, it sounds like he might have been feeling guilty at the thought of taking advantage of you when you were, to him at least, so lost in the moment. Then again, I could be completely wrong."

"Well, let's say that you're right and he did want me; that still doesn't help me figure out what I should do now."

"Do you want my advice?"

Ginny nodded.

"I don't think you should do anything. Let him make the next move. You've given him more than enough encouragement for him to see that you're not so against being intimate with him as you were before, and if he's fool enough to waste it then I guess you can always resort to Plan B.

"Which is?"

"Get him in a situation that he cannot resist," Hermione said bluntly. "I'm sure his hormones will do the rest."

Ginny blushed. "I don't think that will work. I don't know how to seduce anyone."

"I don't think it will come to that anyway," Hermione said with a shrug. "He's bound to do something, and then you'll be able to tell how he truly feels about you. Just be patient and I'm sure that something will work out."

"It's going to be very awkward," Ginny sighed. "I don't even know how I'm going to speak to him again after this, and that's not even including the fact I now know I love him."

"Well, why don't you stay here tonight? It'll give you some time to cool your emotions down and then tomorrow you can face him again with a bit more composure."

"Maybe that's for the best," Ginny agreed, grateful for the offer. "I really don't want to see him right now, and I'm kind of worried that, if I did go back, he might come looking for me and try to apologise again. I did just walk out on him."

"Then it's settled."

Ginny nodded, though she couldn't help but hope that tomorrow would see her waking up and finding that it was all just a dream. This was not how she had expected things to turn out, and she was not looking forward to the awkward conversations that would arise because of it.

**OOOO **

The next day Draco found himself waking up to an empty bed. For a moment he just stared at the space where Ginny normally slept, a heavy feeling clenching his heart. He had been expecting it, of course, but that had not stopped him from hoping that he would wake up to find her beside him.

After Ginny had left the room the previous night, he had spent the next fifteen minutes debating over whether he should go after her and apologise. In the end, he had decided to do just that, but he had not found her anywhere. He had looked in every room—even summoned Tooky to ask if she had any idea of his wife's whereabouts, but Tooky had just as little clue as he did. Ginny had simply vanished.

Draco was intelligent enough to know that it had been because of him. He knew that he had hurt Ginny—apparently more than he had at first realised—and it was obvious to him that she now had no desire to speak to him. The guilt was inescapable, just as it was inevitable that he should worry. He had been the one to drive her off, after all.

He sighed and allowed his gaze to shift to her pillow, which still whispered of her scent. How often he had woken in the night at a sudden sound, thinking that it was Ginny coming back to him, only to find that it was nothing more than the usual noises of the night playing tricks on his mind. The disappointment had been acute, just as it crushed him now to stare at the unoccupied space where her face should have been. He couldn't take this. Not knowing where she was; not knowing if she was safe or happy—it was driving him insane. He needed to know that she was alright; he needed to see her face again; he just needed her. She had become so much a part of his life that even one night without her was enough to make him feel utterly lost. She was just too precious to him, too much a part of his heart. It just didn't seem right to wake up and not be greeted by her sleepy good morning. It just didn't seem right at all, and though he tried hard to deny it, he found himself missing her terribly.

Draco laughed softly to himself. "One night from her and I'm already losing it. Since when did she become so important to me?"

Something stirred in the house. He heard a door close and footsteps shuffling down the hallway. Without even stopping to consider what he was doing, Draco thrust the covers off him and ran out of the room, his eyes wild with hope. His heart was still beating furiously as he skidded to a halt, but instead of being greeted by his wife's youthful face, he saw the elfish features of their house elf, Tooky.

"Is the master alright?" Tooky asked in her squeaky voice. "Master looks upset."

Draco ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath as he did so. He was going mad; _she_ was driving him mad. How else could he explain his erratic behaviour?

"I-I'm fine, Tooky," he muttered somewhat self-consciously, knowing how ridiculous he must have looked sprinting out of his bedroom in only his pyjama bottoms. "My wife hasn't come back yet, has she?"

"No, Master, but this letter came for you just now," Tooky responded, pulling out a folded piece of parchment from the spacious pocket of her outfit. "Tooky was just coming to give it to you."

With trembling fingers, Draco took the letter from the elf's outstretched hand. He had a feeling he knew whom this letter was from, and one glance at the familiar writing was enough to concrete his suspicions.

Dismissing the elf with a curt nod, Draco walked back into his bedroom and sat down on the bed, already unfolding the parchment as he did so. He then began to read:

_Draco,_

_I'm sorry for running out on you last night. I just couldn't bring myself to stay after what we did; I hope you understand. I'm staying with a friend right now, so you don't need to worry about me. I will be back later tonight. _

_Ginny_

A sigh escaped his lips. He folded the letter up again and stared hard at the wall. For a moment he just sat there, and then a frown twisted his mouth and he crushed the letter in his hands and abruptly left the room.

**OOOO **

"Wait a minute," Armand interrupted, staring at his cousin in stunned incredulity. "Are you telling me that Ginny was practically throwing herself at you and you said _no_?"

"Yes," Draco sighed, tightening his grip on the drink in his hands.

"Did you chicken out or something?"

"No! It wasn't like that at all! I just—I just couldn't do that to her."

"Do what?"

"I couldn't sleep with her when I thought she would regret it the next day; I care about her too much to do that."

Armand let out a low whistle. "Merlin's pants. You've got it bad, don't you?"

Draco took a long swig of his drink, which was answer enough to that question.

"That's not alcohol, is it?" Armand demanded suspiciously. "Because I know for a fact that Ginny will murder me with her bare hands if I let you get drunk out of your mind again."

"It's Butterbeer," Draco retorted, rolling his eyes. "I don't think I'm going to get drunk from that."

"It certainly looks like you're trying to."

Draco only rolled his eyes again and took another swig of his drink.

"Alright then, so you two got a little frisky in the night and almost lost your virgin petals," Armand said, getting back to the issue at hand. "But, you know that doesn't really tell me why you're trying to drown yourself in Butterbeer."

"I think I made the wrong choice."

"What?"

Draco sighed and frowned down at the bottle in his hand. "I mean, I think I was wrong to stop things from going any further. My parents have been nagging at me for weeks to get her pregnant, and now I've completely blown the only opportunity I've ever been given."

He glanced back up at his cousin. "She would not have stopped me last night, Armand. She was _willing_, but now she's too upset to even talk to me! I've ruined everything, yet there I was thinking that I was stopping us for our own good. I thought I was protecting her, but in the end I've only hurt her more than what I would have done if I had just gone through with it—not to mention destroyed any hope my parents might have had. Ginny will never let me be that close to her again."

"You don't know that. If she was really as willing as you say she was, then I'm sure you could get her to be just as receptive another time. She's already proven that she's hot for you. It's only a matter of using the right persuasion."

"Are you suggesting that I seduce my wife?"

"Why not?"

Draco shook his head. "Maybe if I knew why she had kissed me last night I would try, but I don't want to take advantage of her like that. It just seems wrong."

Armand started chuckling uncontrollably.

Draco glowered at him. "What on earth is so funny?"

"You're an old woman, that's what!"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I've never met such a sorry excuse for a man. What the hell is wrong with you, Draco? A beautiful woman has practically screamed at you that she wants you, and all you can do is fret over why she feels that way. Most guys wouldn't stop to ask questions; they'd just take the offer and worry about the details later."

"You don't understand."

"Clearly," Armand retorted without sympathy. "You're acting like a fool, and if I were you I'd stop trying to be so damn noble (it doesn't suit you, you know) and just give your wife what you know you both want."

"It's not that simple."

"Sure it is. She's already proven that she wants you. I bet you anything that the only reason she doesn't want to talk to you right now is because she's embarrassed."

"Well, let's say you're right and that she does want me. Do you really think I can just go up to her now and expect her to have sex with me? I rejected her, Armand. I don't think she's going to be too eager to jump in the sack with me anytime soon."

"Like I said," his cousin explained with a sly smile, "if you use the right persuasion, I think you could get her to do anything."

Draco sighed. "You make it sound so easy, but I just can't do that to her. Maybe last night I might have been able to if I knew what I did now, but I just can't take advantage of her in that way."

"I don't see how today differs from last night."

"Well, for one thing, my mind tends to think a bit more objectively when I'm not confronted with a beautiful, skimpily clad woman, who's all too willing to have sex with me."

"Naturally," his cousin agreed, "but I still don't see what the problem is. You care about her, don't you?"

"Of course I care about her," Draco exclaimed heatedly.

"Then I really don't see why this is such a big deal to you. If you care about her then it's not really taking advantage of her. It's not like you're going to have sex with her and then leave her. You're married to her, for Merlin's sake; you're going to have your children with her." Armand met his cousin's gaze. "Don't you see, Draco? You have every right to seduce her if that is what it will take."

"It's not the same. Our marriage isn't like others. Maybe if I knew how she really felt about me it might change things, but at the moment I know nothing."

"Can I offer some advice?"

"What?" Draco muttered, scowling down at his drink.

"Stop worrying about how she feels and start listening to that damn beating organ in your chest. You think too much, Draco; that's your problem. Try listening to your heart a bit more. I think you'll find it does wonders for letting you know what you should really be doing."

"That's a bit corny, don't you think?"

"Corny? That's some damn good advice there! You're never going to get anywhere if you just sit here brooding to yourself, and I'll be damned if I listen to your pitiful excuses any longer. You're a fool, Draco. Stop worrying about the problem and start thinking of the solution."

"I suppose you think you're very wise right now," Draco remarked dryly.

Armand gave a cheeky grin. "Well, I'm a darn lot wiser than you when it comes to matters of the heart, _and_ I'm younger."

"Fine, oh wise one, what do you suggest I do?"

"I suggest you stop fretting over inconsequential things and start acting like a real husband to your wife. Ginny has given you an opening here, even if you made a mull of it the first time. You'd be an idiot if you waste this opportunity."

"But I—"

Armand leaned forward. "Listen to me, Draco. You're not going to get a chance like this again. Whether you like it or not, you know that you need to have a child with her; that is why you married her in the first place. I think it's time you put your scruples behind you and just do what you need to do while your wife is still willing. You can worry about love afterwards. You are going to have nine months before the baby comes, after all."

"Maybe you're right," Draco acquiesced with a sigh. "I have to think of my father as well."

"Yes, you do. You said yourself that your marriage is different to others, and that also means that the two of you do not have the luxury of taking things slow. You don't know if she loves you, I doubt you even know if you love her yourself, but there is attraction between the two of you, and that should be enough to ensure her willingness to be intimate. Either way, your father's time is running out, so now you need to decide which is more important: waiting until you know she loves you or letting your father see his grandchild before he dies."

"You really are a true Malfoy, you know that?" Draco observed with a twisted smile.

"How so?"

"Because you're just as manipulative as the rest of us."

Armand seemed to take that as a compliment and smiled amiably at his cousin.

"Very well," Draco said calmly. "I'll do it. I think it's impossible not to when you put it that way."

"Good. Then I expect to hear tomorrow that you have at least made a push to get things moving with your wife."

Draco nodded, though he still felt a little hesitant to go through with this. He just didn't want her to regret anything, but he knew that Armand was right. He could not put this off any longer. Whether Ginny loved about him or not, he had to have a child with her.

It was time he fulfilled his duty.

**OOOO**

As Draco knew that Ginny was not going to return home until much later that night, he decided to pass the time by going to Diagon Alley and looking in at the shops. It was perhaps not the most exciting pastime, but staying at home in the empty house was only depressing him. The house seemed so silent when Ginny was not there, and that made him edgy.

He made his way down the crowded streets of Diagon Ally, not really paying attention to anything much in particular, when an unwelcome sight registered to his vision. There was his wife, and attached to her arm, looking as bold as he pleased, was Blaise Zabini. Judging by the somewhat amused smile on her lips, the dark-skinned wizard was keeping her entertained as well.

Draco's eyes narrowed. His first thought was to go over there and rant at the both of them, but he had already discovered from experience how that tended to turn out, and right now he had no desire to get into another argument with his wife. He could not be certain what he would do or say when he was feeling so angry—his temper never had been the best—and he did not want to hurt her, no matter how much she had hurt him just now.

It was time to use his head and check his impulsiveness.

With considerable restraint, he waited and watched as Ginny said goodbye to the handsome man by her side before continuing on her way through the crowd. Once she was a safe distance, Draco quickly made his way over to where his old school companion stood, noting with building rage the sly smile playing on that hateful mouth. The last fragments of his control snapped, swallowing him in a wave of jealous fury. His wife had said to him that she had been staying with a friend; he had not thought that she had meant Blaise Zabini. It was true that, at first, he had been inclined to give her the benefit of doubt, but that disgusting smile was enough to confirm his suspicions.

"Zabini!" Draco roared, clenching his hands into fists.

Blaise turned at the sound of his name and seemed a little surprised—and alarmed—to see Draco advancing towards him.

"Draco," he greeted with a forced smile. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Draco did not hesitate; he pulled back his arm and then let his knuckles crack into the haughty, perfect nose with all the force that he could muster. Blaise let out cry of pain and stumbled backwards, clutching at his face where blood was already beginning to gush down his skin and hands in a pool of crimson.

"Are you out of your mind, Malfoy?" Blaise yelled, still looking rather shaken from the sudden attack. He had never been much of a fighter.

"Stay away from my wife, Zabini!" Draco growled. "I know your games, and I know that you've got your eyes on her, but if you even think of putting a finger on my wife, I will personally make sure that you can never enjoy the pleasures of a woman again!"

Blaise swallowed. He seemed to recognise that he had to tread carefully from this point on, for while the threat was a little ridiculous, the anger in those grey eyes was real enough. He pulled himself together and plastered a charming smile on his lips.

"I was merely talking to her," Blaise said in his most winning voice. "You can't fault me for that. You must know, Draco, that, as your friend, I would never do anything to _your_ wife."

"You're not my friend," Draco retorted, "and I certainly wouldn't trust your word on anything. You're a lying little sneak, and I don't want you talking to my wife or even breathing the same air as my wife! I don't know why she came to you last night—and you can be sure that she and I will be having a discussion about that later—but if I find that you've touched her, I'll—" Draco clenched his hands, suddenly overcome by his feelings, and then glared at the man before him. "Let's just say that you'd better hope that all you did last night was play wizard's chess."

Blaise blinked in surprise, and then a cunning gleam entered his eyes as he considered the blond. Both expressions only lasted a second before he was looking suave and controlled once again.

"I would have thought that it was obvious why she came to me," he said with spiteful relish. "She knew that I could satisfy her where you could not."

"If you dared—" Draco snarled, grabbing a fistful of Blaise's robes.

Blaise smiled. "Oh, did I hit a sensitive spot? Tell me, Draco, did you ever end up taming the tigress? I am curious, you know. Only think how amusing it would be if I got there before you did."

Three seconds later Blaise was on the ground and groaning in considerable pain. Draco flexed his fingers with a small wince, but overall looked grimly satisfied with himself.

"You'd best hope that we don't see each other again, Zabini," Draco said coldly, glaring at the crumpled figure on the ground. "You have no idea how much I would like to kill you right now."

"It was worth it," Blaise gritted out, spiteful to the very last, "if only to have heard your wife moan my name on her pretty lips."

Draco's eyes flashed, but by this point the crowd of people surrounding them had caught on to what was happening between the two men, and a very large and burly gentleman came rushing over and pulled Draco away before he could do any more damage to the already bloody and disfigured wizard lying on the ground.

"Let go of me!" Draco shouted, trying to break free from the ridiculously large man. "I'm going to kill him!"

"That's why I ain't letting you go, sonny. You need to cool down before you do something foolish."

Draco made a frustrated noise as Blaise Disapparated with a crack, feeling even more enraged that the licentious little rat had managed to escape his wrath. The large gentleman released him now that there was no risk of more punches being thrown, but Draco spared him no thanks. He merely fixed up his robe, gave one final glare at his helper, and then stormed off down the street in a cloud of dark rage.

He couldn't believe that Ginny would do this to him! He just couldn't believe it! So much for her innocent airs and shy blushes; she was nothing but a conniving vixen! To think that she had left him last night to go to the bed of that—that man-whore! And _he_—Merlin, he had spent half the night fretting about her and wondering if she was okay, when in that very moment she had probably been sinfully enclosed in the arms of Blaise Zabini, a man whom he absolutely detested!

He was furious with her. Furious and bitter and upset, and not at all ready to forgive her. What a fool he had been to worry. Yes, and now he felt even more humiliated knowing that tonight he had been planning to apologise and start afresh with their relationship. There was no question of doing that now; the very thought of being with her in such a way made him sick.

He would never forgive her for this, but he was going to get an explanation. She at least owed him that.

**OOOO **

By the time Ginny returned home that night, Draco had calmed down considerably, though his temper was still very much frayed. He stiffened as he heard her mumble something to Tooky from outside the room, and then the door opened and Ginny stepped into their bedroom, her body practically screaming her nervousness with the way she kept rubbing her hands against arms.

"Hello," she said quietly, not quite meeting his eyes.

Draco stared at her in stony silence. Looking very uncomfortable, Ginny made her way to the dressing room and was about to open the door when Draco finally spoke.

"Whose robe is that?"

Ginny paused, still with her hand on the door handle, and turned to stare at her husband in surprise. "My friend lent it to me. You could hardly expect me to wander around in that nightdress all day."

"I'm sure he wouldn't have minded," Draco muttered before he could stop himself.

"_He_?" A crease formed on her brow. "What are you talking about?"

Draco slammed his fist on the bed, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Don't play innocent with me! You know just as well I do what you did!"

She shook her head, looking increasingly bewildered.

"How could you do it, Ginny?" he demanded, and he hated the way his voice broke, clearly betraying his hurt. "Why _him_?"

"Do what? What _are_ you talking about?"

"I know you were with Zabini last night!"

"Zabini?" Ginny laughed, all trace of a frown gone from her face, and stared at him in frank amusement. "What on earth has Zabini got to do with anything? I wouldn't go to him even if he paid me a million galleons."

Draco raised his eyebrow. "Then why did I see you walking with him in town today?"

Ginny sighed in exasperation. "Not this again. _Merlin_, Draco, how many times do I have to tell you that Zabini means nothing to me? I just happened to bump into him in town and he demanded—yes, demanded—that I should allow him to walk me down the street. I only managed to get rid of him when I said I was going home."

"Damn it, Ginny, do you take me for a fool?" Draco exploded, standing up from the bed. "He told me what you two did last night! He told me everything!"

"What?"

"You look surprised," he observed dryly. "I suppose you never thought I'd find out about it, did you? I probably wouldn't have either if Zabini hadn't been able to resist boasting to me of his conquest. You should have known that he wouldn't keep it secret. He hates me too much to do that and, knowing him, he probably didn't use protection either just so I would have to suffer you having some bastard brat with him."

"_What_?" Ginny shrieked, clenching her hands into admirable little fists. "How dare he say that about me! Oh, when I get my hands on him—"

"Like I said, you should have known that he would not be able to resist boasting of his conquest," Draco said coldly. "It's a game with Blaise to have sex with other men's wives."

Ginny's eyes snapped to his. "You actually think this is true, then?"

"How can it not be?"

"How can it not b—Merlin, Draco, you make me want to hex you sometimes! How can you be so stupid as to think that I would actually want to have sex with that—that sleazebag!"

"It wouldn't be the first time Zabini has seduced someone else's wife, and I already knew he had his eye on you."

"I don't believe this," Ginny cried almost tearfully. "You would believe his word over mine? You would believe his spiteful little lies when you know he hates you and wants to hurt you?" She took a step towards him. "Don't you see, Draco? He's just lying to you! You must know I would never do that to you! Never!"

Draco shifted uncomfortably, no longer looking quite so certain. "Where were you last night if you were not with him?"

"I was with Hermione! You can even ask her if I was there!"

His brow creased as he stared into her brown eyes, torn between what and who to believe. He wanted to believe her; he almost did believe her, but then why hadn't she told him in the letter that she was staying with Hermione? Why had she been so careful to use the vague description of 'friend'? Even more damning was the fact that he had seen her strolling arm-in-arm with the sneak, and she had been smiling very much at her pleasure while doing so. Add into the equation that Blaise had been a little too gleeful to disclose that he had slept with Ginny for it to be lie, and Draco knew his mind was set.

She had to be lying.

"How can I believe you, Ginny?" he asked more quietly, his rage now giving way to weary resignation. "For all I know you could have already arranged for her to say that you were there."

Tears welled up in Ginny's eyes and slid down her cheeks. "Do you really have so little faith in me?" she asked in a small voice. "Have I done anything to deserve this distrust from you? Have I?"

Draco looked away, feeling suddenly ashamed by her tears and her words. What if he had been wrong? It wouldn't be the first time.

She walked forward and grasped his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Please, Draco," she said earnestly. "You have to believe me when I say that I did not sleep with Blaise Zabini, nor will I ever do so with any man besides yourself. I am your wife; my body belongs to you and you only. I would never let another man touch what is rightfully yours."

He clasped his hands around her wrists, staring searchingly into her eyes. The truth stared back at him as clearly as the tears rolling down her cheeks. Suddenly, a new emotion swept through him, crushing his heart in a painful grip of remorse. He broke away from her, turning to face the other way so that she was staring at his back.

"I'm such an idiot," he muttered. "I should have known right from the beginning that you would not play me like that, but I was just so angry, and when I saw you with him I couldn't think, I just—" He broke off, letting out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Ginny."

There was a pause, and then he felt arms wrap around his waist and a warm body press against his back.

"I forgive you, Draco," she said softly. "But please don't do it again. It hurts me to have you question my loyalty."

Draco closed his eyes and placed his hands on top of hers. "I won't."


	22. Discovering the Art of Seduction

Just a heads up that this chapter will get a little steamy. Nothing too explicit, but feel free to skip over those parts if it bothers you.

* * *

**Discovering the Art of Seduction**

Draco stared at the ceiling. A slight frown pulled at his mouth, and a few creases worked along his brow. The accusations he had so recklessly levelled against his wife had been cleared and forgiven, but he could not help feeling like a complete idiot for even believing Blaise's version of events in the first place. He should have known better. He should have known that Blaise would lie to him if given the opportunity, yet at the time he had been so angry. The very thought of Ginny going with another man had made his blood burn with jealousy, so he had simply believed what his eyes had told him to believe, ignoring the heart that had whispered right from the beginning to trust his wife.

_Stupid_, Draco thought, running a hand over his face.

He didn't deserve her. She was far too good for him. The very fact that she had embraced him after he had accused her of sleeping with another man proved how unworthy he was of her. She was everything that was beautiful and loving, but he was just an irrational, impulsive idiot, and now the strain between them was even worse.

It wasn't that she was angry with him; in fact, quite the opposite, but something had changed while they had held each other after she had forgiven him. He had turned to face her, pulling her into a proper hug, just needing to be close; just needing to know that she was there and that this was not some figment of his imagination. He had been so hurt, so filled with panic, and then there was only relief. Then there was only the two of them standing together, arms wrapped around each other. She had stared up at him, brown eyes locking with grey, and suddenly he had felt that familiar pull; a magnetic force drawing him closer, tugging his gaze to her soft, kissable lips.

It would have been so easy. All he'd had to do was close that small gap between them and press his lips against hers, but even amongst all his relief he had recognised how wrong it would be. There was no way he would have been able to stop this time, and though he had known that he wanted to be close to her, there was something so callous and tactless about being with his wife after just accusing her of committing adultery. So he had pulled himself away, knowing that it was better to wait. There would be plenty of opportunities to fulfil his duty to his father, plenty of chances to show Ginny just how much he cared for her. But his movement had also caused the warmth in his wife's eyes to dull, and suddenly everything had become awkward and tense. Gone was the moment, and so the two had fallen into their usual routine, keeping a careful distance from each other.

A sigh escaped his lips. Ginny made a soft noise and rolled over in the bed to face him, tucking her hands up under chin. For a moment he thought he might have woken her, but she did not open her eyes and her breathing remained at a slow, even pace. If she was awake, she was doing an excellent job of pretending to be asleep. He shifted to his side so that their faces were inches apart, taking in her shadowy features. Not even really knowing what he was doing, he reached out and brushed his fingers against her cheek. She didn't stir, for which he could only be grateful. He'd never dared to do this before, even though there had been many times when he had wanted to touch her on a far more intimate level; however, he'd always held back, conscious of how wrong it was to take advantage of her while she slept. But tonight was different. Tonight, he couldn't bring himself to feel bad.

Hesitantly, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers—a light kiss that was like the caress of butterfly wings. She stirred in her sleep, but not enough to alarm him. He didn't kiss her again, though, and simply rolled the other way with a sigh, showing his back to her. Anything to block the temptation of her warm, inviting body. Things had suddenly become very complicated. His feelings for her had grown way out of proportion, but his moralistic scruples—damnably annoying as they were proving to be—now made him hesitate.

He had already decided that it was wrong to be with his wife tonight, but would tomorrow be any better? Would it still be too soon then? And what of the day after that? Would things be less awkward then? The answer was simple: no. She would never forget, just as he would never forget. No matter how many days passed, that tension would still linger. There was too much between them; too much left unsaid that needed to be said but that both were reluctant to speak. Now he just didn't know what to do.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. As Armand had suggested, he needed to seduce his wife into wanting to have sex with him, but that just seemed so very mercenary and unpleasant to Draco when he considered exactly why he had to seduce her. It should be something that happened naturally: two people intuitively coming together to express their love. It should not fall on him to use probably very ridiculous methods to try and get her '_in the mood'_, as the saying went.

But Draco knew there were no options left. His father was dying—there was no escaping that fact. No matter how much Draco cared for Ginny or wanted to love her in the way she deserved, he could not deny his father that one wish. Nine months was a long time. How much more awful would it be if, by the time he finally got Ginny pregnant, it was too late? Could he live with that guilt, knowing that it had been because of him that time had run out; that his father had been unable to look into the eyes of his grandchild just once because he, Draco, had wanted to wait until he was certain it was the right moment?

Pain clutched at Draco's heart, curling its fingers tightly around the organ. He'd already put the matter off far longer than he should. It had been more than a month since he and Ginny had first got married, but Draco wouldn't think about that. He would just think about what he had to do tomorrow, though he couldn't deny he still felt hesitant, and not just because he had made the terrible mistake of accusing her of sleeping with Blaise. The truth was that he wasn't sure that he _could _seduce her. Kissing her when she was asleep was one thing, but it was quite another to do the same while her expressive eyes where upon him. He was just too inexperienced, too awkward with women.

She made him nervous.

Only once had they been intimate with each other, and that was when Ginny had instigated the kiss and given him all the encouragement he had needed to relax. His body had instinctively reacted after that, and everything had happened so naturally that there had been no need for him to worry about anything at all except how pleasant it was to be close to her and how much he had wanted to be much, much closer. Now, however, _he_ was the one who had to be the instigator, and he wasn't just going for a harmless kiss.

Draco threw an arm over his face, repressing a groan. It was all very easy for Armand to say that he should use the right persuasion, but how did one even know what the right persuasion was? Should he use roses and candles and slowly lull her into that romantic mood? Or should he take charge like the dominating male he sometimes liked to think he was and simply grab her and kiss her? The latter did have some appeal. Draco was a man who delighted in being blunt and found the straightforwardness of that option rather attractive. There would be no fluffing around with rose petals and other rubbish like that—for he was no romantic and probably would make himself look ridiculous even trying to behave in such a way. But there were drawbacks to such a cave-man approach as well; the most obvious being that timing was everything, and his timing was often quite awful.

Worse still was his uncertainty. He had never been with a woman, and Blaise and Armand had been disconcertingly accurate with their assessment as to why he had been feeling so nervous at the thought of sleeping with his wife all those weeks ago. It wasn't that he was afraid of sex, but he was afraid of doing something wrong. Having the bare facts at least allowed him to understand the mechanics of what he needed to do—or at least gave him enough to let his imagination do the rest—but the finer details were what he really needed; otherwise he had a feeling that Ginny was going to find it very unpleasant to be with him, and that was something he did not desire.

The only problem was that he had no idea how to remedy this lack of knowledge. There seemed to be no one to turn to. Armand had no experience in these matters—not to mention was two years younger than him—and Draco had far too much pride to turn to his female friends for advice, whom he knew would only be too happy to _teach_ him how to go on. Theodore was out of the question for obvious reasons.

It was all very frustrating, as he was consciously aware of the growing, powerful intensity of his own feelings. His body had become so sensitive to Ginny's proximity; he knew his self-control would not last for long, yet he still felt that niggling indecision. It was like there was this battle going on inside him between his reason and his ever-growing desire. His reason was absorbed with the fear of doing something wrong; of not being able to give his father a grandchild before time ran out, but also whether the time was right to finally consummate his marriage with Ginny—especially after tonight's disastrous confrontation. His desire, however, seemed to believe that none of that would matter in the end and that everything would simply work itself out.

His desire always had been the more optimistic of the two.

Still, Draco had relied on his reason far too often to not feel some doubt now, as much as he wanted to believe the latter. There just seemed to be so many things that could go wrong, and his head began to throb in protest as he sought for solutions that refused to make themselves known. It was then that Draco remembered something his cousin had said to him; something which, at the time, he had dismissed as complete and utter nonsense but now seemed to be his one hope:

"_You think too much, Draco. That's your problem. Try listening to your heart a bit more; I think you'll find it does wonders for letting you know what you should really be doing."_

Could Armand have actually been right?

It still seemed ridiculous to Draco that something that pumped blood through his body could possibly have the answer he wanted, but then he did have to admit that sometimes he took things too literally. Perhaps he did think too much; otherwise, he would have realised long ago that people used the heart as an airy explanation for instinct and not because they were overly romantic people with weird ideas stuffed into their head. If Armand was right, then all Draco needed to do was discover just what his instincts were telling him to do. He needed to stop worrying about all the problems that might arise and just let his heart reveal the solution. Thinking really was gaining him nothing—except maybe a severe headache and a great deal of stress that he really did not need right now.

_Maybe he's wiser than I give him credit for_, Draco thought, a little surprised at his cousin's astuteness.

Comforted that there was now a chance that he could do this right _and_ still satisfy his father, Draco decided that there was not much point fretting about the matter further. He figured that he would just sleep on it for now. Who knew? Maybe the answer would come to him in his sleep.

_Unlikely_, Draco thought, but he relaxed as best as he could, and then drifted off into a surprisingly deep and untroubled sleep.

**OOOO**

"Can you pass me the salt, please?" Ginny asked, oddly formal.

Draco looked up from his eggs on toast and grabbed the saltshaker without a word, passing it over to her. Their fingers brushed against each other, and the contact sent little sparks prickling through this skin. He abruptly pulled his hand away.

"Thanks," she muttered, lowering her gaze. He wondered if she had felt it too.

The blond watched her for a moment, transfixed by the way her eyelashes half-veiled her eyes, and her soft, kissable lips. His blood began to pump faster, turning hot with desire so that he could feel the heat spreading through his veins. When had she got so tempting? Even watching her eat was like playing some warped game of seduction.

Ginny glanced up, as if bidden by his intense gaze, and stared at him with one eyebrow raised in question. He wasn't sure what she had seen on his face, but something about his expression seemed to embarrass her, for he watched in curiosity as the blood rushed to her cheeks in a blossom of red. She opened her mouth to say something, changed her mind, and then once more went back to her food.

Draco pursed his lips. He hated not knowing what she was thinking even on the best of days, but right now he would have given every Galleon in his vault to know what she had been about to say.

"What are you thinking?" he finally asked, unable to stand the suspense any longer.

Ginny started and dropped her fork, her eyes wildly catching his. "I—" she swallowed and tried to regain her composure. "I was just, um—it was nothing."

Draco frowned. She wasn't normally like this, but then he didn't normally feel so drawn to her either. "Tell me," he insisted, not willing to let her off the hook so easily.

Ginny lowered her gaze back to her food. "It's nothing important," she said, not quite able to hide her blush. "Honestly."

"You're not a very good liar," Draco observed, and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. He was having fun now.

Her eyes met his pleadingly. "Can't we just eat our breakfast?"

Draco saw her discomfort, but this only made his smile grow wider. "Is it really that bad?"

The colour on her cheeks darkened. Draco took that as a yes.

"Come on, Ginny. I swear I won't laugh."

"It's not your laughter I'm worried about," she muttered.

He blinked. "Then what?"

"I'm not telling you. It's too embarrassing."

"But—"

"No."

"But I just—"

"No!"

Draco sighed in defeat. "Fine. I won't bug you anymore, though I think I can guess what it was, anyway."

"Which is?"

He smirked. "I'm not telling."

Now it was Ginny's turn to feel frustrated. Unlike, Draco, however, she only glared at him for a moment before once again returning to her breakfast. He smiled as he too returned to eating his eggs on toast. He might not know exactly what his wife had been thinking, but he was observant when he wanted to be, and he was sure that he now had a good idea of why she had blushed.

Perhaps seducing her would not be so hard, after all.

**OOOO**

Ginny paced up and down her friend's flat. She had already told Hermione everything that had happened the day before, which had featured a very spirited therapy session in which they had both ripped Blaise Zabini's character to shreds, but right now the redhead was more concerned with her husband and his most recent behaviour. Ever since breakfast, she had felt unsettled by him. His thoughts had been surprisingly transparent in his grey eyes. He wanted her; it was as clear as the nose on his face, but she had remembered that she was supposed to let him make the next move, so she had held her tongue. Still, she had been hoping with a sort of nervous excitement that he would just act on his feelings and spare her the suspense. To her disappointment, he had not. Instead he had asked her what she was thinking. This was even more nerve-wracking, as she knew that the only thing occupying her thoughts was how much she wanted him to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, among other things…

"Would you stop pacing?" Hermione said with an amused smile, watching her friend's restless progress. "You're making me dizzy."

"I'm sorry," Ginny muttered, wringing her hands. "I'm just—I'm just so nervous. And frustrated," she added as an afterthought. "Draco's been acting oddly all day. It's driving me up the wall! I can't stand the tension anymore. I can't stand being around him, feeling his gaze burning into my skin, and knowing exactly what he wants. I can't stand talking to him, not even knowing what he's talking about anyway, because all I can think of is how much I want him to just get on with it!"

"You're very eager," her friend remarked with a laugh.

Ginny grabbed fistfuls of her hair with a groan. "He's taunting me, Hermione. I just can't take it. I can't. When I look at him, when he gets too close—it's like my body has been specifically tuned to his. I feel breathless when he just looks at me." She shook her head and collapsed on the bed. "I think I'm going crazy."

"You're not crazy," Hermione responded, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're just very sexually frustrated."

Ginny could only groan again and smothered her face with a pillow to hide her shame.

"It's nothing to get embarrassed about, Ginny. You love him and he's not a bad looking guy," Hermione allowed with a somewhat twisted smile. "It's only natural that you should want to be with him."

"But it's not fair!" came the muffled and very heated reply. "I have absolutely no control around him! I'm terrified that if I go back, I'm just going to grab him and kiss _him _senseless! He's just so, so—I can't even find the right word!"

Hermione chuckled. "I'm sure you'll find the restraint you need."

"But that's the thing!" Ginny cried, tossing the pillow away and sitting up to stare back at her friend. "I thought it was bad enough trying to resist him before, and that was when he was doing nothing to encourage me. Now he's not even trying to hide his feelings! Merlin, I used to think he was like a block of ice, but he's not at all! He just looks at me with those eyes—I swear they actually smoulder—and when he touches me—"Ginny shivered, but it was clear that it was a shiver of pleasure rather than from the chill of the day.

"It's called attraction, Ginny. That's what happens."

"Yes, but it's driving me crazy!" Ginny exclaimed, her cheeks flushed. "He's driving me crazy! Why does he have to play with me like this? If he really wants me so bad then why the hell doesn't he just do it? Why all this painful suspense?"

"You know what I think?" Hermione mused thoughtfully.

"What?"

"I think he's testing the waters."

"Huh?"

Hermione smiled. "I mean he's waiting for the right moment. He wants you, Ginny—that much you have already ascertained, and so it seems only natural to me that he should _taunt _you, as you put it, until he finds that right moment."

Ginny gasped. "You mean he's pulled out my own plan B on me!"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Well, I would never have thought it," Ginny admitted with a laugh. "Draco is terrible with women. I can't imagine him purposely trying to be seductive."

"And yet he has you panting for him before he's even got your clothes off," Hermione said rather slyly.

Ginny flushed to the roots of her hair. "Do you have to say it like that?"

"Sorry. I think I've been spending too much time with guys. You know what they're like."

"Yes, unfortunately I do."

They both fell silent at that.

"So, what do you think I should do then?" Ginny asked.

"Nothing," was the simple reply.

"Nothing?"

Hermione nodded. "He is going to come to you, Ginny, and if he hasn't at least kissed you by the end of tonight, I will be highly surprised."

"Do you think?"

"Yes."

Ginny suddenly stood up and walked over to the fireplace.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked curiously.

"You don't honestly think I'm going to risk having sex for the first time with my husband while I have prickly legs!" Ginny cried in horror. "If you're right, then I'm going to damn-well make sure that I'm ready for him, and that includes having the smoothest legs possible!"

Hermione burst out laughing, but Ginny did not stay any longer and said a hasty goodbye before she returned back to her own home. She did not hear Draco in the house, but she wasn't really looking for him anyway. All she wanted was to get to the bathroom so that she could make herself ready. She would be smooth, soft, and smell glorious—and that was exactly how she felt after enjoying a very luxurious bath.

A little smile played on her lips as she walked into her bedroom, still towel-drying her hair. The sound of a sharp inhale of breath caught her attention, and she glanced up to see Draco sitting on the bed, watching her with an appreciative glint in his eyes. A gasp escaped her lips, even as the towel slipped from her fingers to the floor. She was suddenly conscious of the fact that she was naked but for the blue bathrobe that was tied loosely around her waist and which barely came down to her knees.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, placing a hand against her pounding heart. "I didn't know you were home."

"I was waiting for you."

"O-oh," Ginny stammered. "Why?"

He stared at her intently for a moment and then stood up from the bed, as if he had come to some kind of decision. Her heart thudded against her ribs as she watched him close the distance between them until he was standing directly in front of her, making her stomach do little somersaults and soars from his proximity. She dropped her hand from her chest and craned her neck back to meet his gaze, her breasts rising and falling as her breathing quickened.

"Ginny," he said in a low and surprisingly velvety voice.

Blood pounded in her ears. "Yes?"

"May I kiss you?"

Her heart seemed to still, and for a moment she couldn't think at all, let alone get the words out to give her assent. But then the stupor wore off and she was nodding her head in dizzy agreement.

"Yes," she whispered breathlessly.

A smile curved Draco's lips, and then he was lowering his face and her eyes instinctively slid shut. There was a moment where she was conscious only of the erratic pounding of her heart and the warm male in front of her; then his lips were brushing teasingly against hers, and everything else seemed to cease to exist. Without even realising it, she was throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him back hard. If Draco was surprised by her display of passion, he didn't show it and instead snaked his hand around her waist, pulling her closer so that her body was pressed completely to his, even as his free hand curled up through her damp hair to angle her face more to his liking.

Ginny sighed in contentment and parted her lips, allowing him to taste and tease her with velvety caresses—to deepen the kiss until she was biting back moans of shameless pleasure. They were both breathing heavily by the time they broke apart, hair mussed and lips swollen. It was very hard to think clearly right now, and Ginny wasn't even sure that she would have been able to stay upright if she had not been leaning so heavily against him. Their eyes met, his darkened with passion, and then he was kissing her again—kissing her so fervently that she could barely keep up with the dizzying rush of sensations he was inspiring inside her. She had never known that Draco could be so intensely passionate. It was a nice surprise.

His hands trailed down her back, caressing her hips, and then he picked her up by her thighs and held her securely against him, still kissing her as he carried her towards the bed. Ginny was pleased that he lay her down carefully instead of throwing her on the bed—you just never knew with him—but her scattered thoughts were abruptly stopped in their tracks by his lips once more claiming hers, stealing her attention with dizzy clouds of pleasure. One of his hands had remained curled around her thigh, and he used that hand now to hitch her leg up around his waist, intensifying that much-desired friction between them. Her blood pounded in her ears as she felt his fingers trail tauntingly up her bare skin to come to rest on her hipbone; so, so close to the spot that she wanted him to touch. It was all she could do not to beg him to ease the burning ache.

He pulled his lips away from hers and began planting hot kisses along her jaw, her neck, and then tracing the curve of her collarbone down to her breasts. She arched her back with a moan, running her fingers through his hair as she felt his other hand unloose the careless knot that kept her robe together. Calloused fingers brushed her stomach as he parted the silky material, and she couldn't help but let out a shaky breath, closing her eyes helplessly. His hand moved up along her ribs, brushing the delicate curve of her breasts, and then the heady fire inside her flared even hotter, and she was fisting a hand in his hair, bringing his face back up to hers so that she could seize his lips with her own.

Still kissing him, she pushed herself forward until they were half-sitting on the bed; her leg curled around his waist, and his hand still resting against her hip. The desire to be skin-to-skin had suddenly become imperative, and she fumbled as she started undoing the buttons on his shirt. Draco seemed to sense her thoughts, for he was soon helping her to remove his top and then tugging the rest of his clothes off with impatient determination. Ginny shrugged off her robe and pressed herself against him, revelling in the feeling of his warm body, even as their lips met again and again in impassioned kisses, making her feel as if strings of fire were being pulled taut from deep within her core.

He pulled back after a moment, panting for breath—as was she—and met her eyes steadily. There they sat, completely naked; their arms and legs tangled with each other, and their cheeks flushed with the heady passion that threatened to overwhelm them. Each knew in their heads that there would be no turning back tonight, but neither felt the need to stop. This was it. This was what they had both been dreading yet longing for since the day of their marriage, and now there was finally nothing to hold them back.

Draco leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers in a surprisingly sweet kiss that was even more breathtaking than all of the frantic ones they had shared that night. He cradled her face in his hands, deepening the kiss as he eased her down against the pillows, yet he was still so gentle, so tender. The change in pace was somewhat disorientating, but as she closed her eyes and let him explore her body, touching places that made her gasp and grip the sheets between her fingers, she thought it was somehow more beautiful than all of the uncontrollable passion they had previously shared. It made his actions somehow more meaningful—made her heart throb all the more warmly. For when he kissed her and touched her like this, she could almost believe that he loved her.

"Do you trust me?" he murmured in her ear, one hand curled around her thigh.

"Yes," Ginny whispered, barely audible.

"Then just relax."

Ginny exhaled shakily and closed her eyes as he eased himself inside her, forcing her body to stretch just enough to accommodate his length. It hurt, but it was the kind of pain that was tinged with pleasure. The kind of pain that made her rock her hips against his, wanting him to go deeper, to feel that friction in its purest form. He was so big and hard, and she realised that this was what she had wanted, what she had _needed_. Then he was moving inside her, and she was moving with him, and it was as if she was seeing the world in colour for the first time. Everything was just so tangible, so clear, so exquisitely intense. She felt like she was falling and flying; she felt like she was on fire, and with every thrust that heat spread until she was seeing stars and could do no more than breathe his name again and again, completely helpless as shockwaves of pleasure juddered through her body.

He held her close afterwards, and she smiled sleepily as she closed her eyes, too exhausted and caught up in her post-orgasm high to do much more. There was one thing she knew, however, and that was that she would never forget this night. She would never forget being with him.

**OOOO **

The next morning Ginny awoke to find that she was still cradled in Draco's arms, just as she had been when she had slowly drifted off to sleep, tired but very satisfied. She'd heard so many horror stories about a woman's first sexual experience, remembering with detail how all of them had complained about the sometimes excruciating pain—especially the pain that came the next day. Draco had proved her wrong on both counts. Last night had been amazing, though that word barely described the beauty of what it had felt like to become one with the man she loved. It was true that she felt a little stiff and uncomfortable, but it was more from the newness of it all than from anything particularly painful. It certainly didn't make her regret having sex with her husband.

She grinned in contentment as the memories of last night washed over her. If that was what it was like then she could understand why so many people enjoyed sex and jumped the wand just to experience it before marriage. Maybe if she had known how good it felt to be intimate with a man, she might have done that herself, but then it would not have been the same with anyone else. She knew that last night had been all the more perfect to her because she had experienced it first with Draco; because she loved him. The fact that it had been his first time as well somehow made it even more special.

Ginny rolled over and stared at her husband's sleeping face. Or, at least, she thought he was sleeping until he opened his eyes and gazed at her with undisguised tenderness, a soft smile curving his lips. Her mouth instinctively twitched into an answering grin.

"Good morning," he murmured, leaning up to brush his lips against hers. Ginny didn't even have it in her to worry about morning breath; he just had a way of making her forget about everything when he kissed her.

"'Morning," she mumbled against his lips, breaking away from the kiss.

They both smiled at each other for a moment, and for Ginny she knew it was because she was unable to stop herself from feeling anything but undisguised love for the blond. It was too hard to restrain her emotions after sharing something as personal as they had last night.

"How are you feeling?" Draco asked, tucking a stray strand of red behind her ear.

For some reason the question made her shy, and she blushed and glanced down at his chest. "Fine."

"I didn't hurt you?"

Ginny shook her head, cheeks still lightly flushed. "You didn't hurt me at all."

For a virgin, he had been very intuitive about what he should and shouldn't do. He seemed to have instinctively understood that he needed to be gentle with her, and had taken great pains to make sure that she was well and truly ready before attempting to take things further. That had made all the difference.

Draco wrapped his arms more securely around her. "I'm glad."

Ginny sighed in contentment and nestled her face closer to his neck. Cuddling with him like this was wonderful.

"I'm so glad I married you," she murmured after a moment, while idly tracing a pattern on his chest with her finger.

"Oh?"

She nodded, even as she continued to trace a spiral of circles on his abdomen. "Being with you … it's like—it's like using magic for the first time. Everything just seems to fall into place, and I suddenly realise what I've been missing out on." A blush stole her cheeks. "What I'm trying to say is, I feel like my life makes so much more sense when I'm with you, but it's more than that as well." She raised her head from her burrow and gave him a shy smile. "You make me happy."

His grip on her tightened, and she could feel his heart quickening in his chest. "I didn't know you felt that way."

"Well, now you do."

A smile glimmered in his eyes at the simplicity of her statement, and then he closed the distance between them and placed his lips against hers. "You make me happy, too," he whispered.

It felt like they were sharing secrets, like two children hiding under a blanket and whispering silly confessions to each other, but there was nothing silly about this moment. Her heart seemed to swell with warmth at his words, and she kissed him full on the mouth, telling him through actions what she was still too shy to speak aloud. His fingers tangled in her hair as he deepened the kiss, and for a moment her senses focussed only on him. Nothing else mattered. There was only the gentle caress of his touch and the intoxicating taste of his kisses; there was only him and her, and the two hearts she could feel beating to the same rhythm.

It was in that moment that Ginny realised there really was no going back for her now. She was in love with Draco Malfoy, and now she had given him everything: her heart, her virginity, even her soul. She belonged to him in every possible way, and she knew that she would not have it otherwise. It no longer matter that she didn't know how he felt about her. All she knew was that her feelings for him were so powerful that there was no way she could keep them to herself any longer. She had to tell him.

Ginny leaned up and planted a small kiss by his ear. She then whispered three simple words:

"I love you."


	23. Talk of the Town

**Disclaimer:** **All that you recognise belongs to JKR.**

**Warning:** **Sexual references. **

**A/N: Merylin (hope I spelt that right), since I can't reply to your review, I'll just tell you here—and for the benefit of everyone else—that the last chapter was about as detailed as you're ever going to get from me, so I think I'm safe with keeping the rating at PG/T. I will, however, let you know if I change my mind. **

**Talk of the Town**

"_I love you."_

Draco sucked in a sharp breath, his whole body paralysing in the shock of what he had just heard. The words kept echoing inside him, reverberating in the very beat of his suddenly pounding heart, and yet his heart did not beat any faster; it had only become louder, almost stronger. Her words seem to have made that beating organ all the more alive and aware.

It was the most glorious and yet overwhelming feeling he had ever experienced.

He couldn't think, he couldn't even breathe. There had to be a reason why these words should affect him so much, but his mind could only sluggishly try to come to terms with what his heart had already grasped. It just seemed all too much like a dream.

This could not be real.

Draco rolled over and sat up, his grey eyes frantically searching her face for some sort of reassurance that this was really happening. He could see the slight surprise creeping into her brown eyes and the tremor of a frown tugging at her lips. The surprise quickly swirled into worry and then a self-conscious blush spread across her cheeks.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" she asked in a small voice, clearly discomforted by his silence.

"You love me?" he repeated.

"More than anything."

Her voice was barely audible, but he could already see in her eyes that she was telling the truth. There was no lie in that raw, honest gaze. She truly did love him.

A smile broke out on his face, so simple and happy that for a moment he really did appear to be the angel his mother had once fondly called him, and then he was kissing her: once, twice and a third time. His arms encircled her, pulling her all the more closer to his body, and suddenly he knew in that moment that there really was such a thing as feeling like the happiest man in the world.

This was more than he could have hoped for. She loved him. She actually loved him.

"You don't know how happy you've made me," he whispered, now holding her very close. "_Nothing_ can eclipse this. I never thought—never dreamed—"

He broke off, overwhelmed by his own feelings, and could get no more out.

Ginny placed a hand against his chest, stopping him from kissing her again. "Wait! Are you—Do you—" She frowned and stared up at him with a sort of disbelieving hope. "What are you saying?"

A warm smile curved his lips and very carefully he took her chin in his hands, his grey eyes meeting hers with steady sincerity. "Foolish Ginny," he murmured in a teasing but affectionate caress, "Is it really so hard to believe that I could love you too?"

For a moment she just looked stunned. Then tears began to glisten in her eyes, and she was throwing her arms around him and clinging to him as if her very life depended on it.

"I never thought I'd hear you say those words," she whispered in a choked voice, burying her face into his neck.

"To be honest," admitted Draco somewhat ruefully, "I never thought I would either."

A watery chuckle shook her body. Pulling back slightly, her eyes now visibly sparkling with her tears, she murmured: "You never change, do you?"

"Not really."

"But that's good," her hold tightened on him again, "because I love you just the way you are."

"Well that's a relief. I was afraid you'd be expecting me to suddenly be all romantic or something."

He said the word like it was something incredibly distasteful and degrading. To him it probably was.

Her shoulders shook again. "Now that would be something indeed: Draco Malfoy, the romantic. Though, you know," she added as an afterthought, "I think you can be romantic, in your own way. But don't worry, I won't expect you to throw me candlelight dinners or take me for moonlit walks along the beach just because you've told me you love me."

"Good," mumbled Draco, planting a feather light kiss on her neck, "Because I'm not going to."

"And I hope you won't expect me to listen to everything you say and not argue with you just because I said that I love you," said Ginny, "because I'll tell you now that it isn't going to happen."

"The thought never even occurred to me," he murmured, now trailing his lips up to her ear.

Ginny instinctively leaned her head back to give him better access to the sensitive skin his lips were now pleasantly assailing. "That is…very distracting," she sighed, closing her eyes in blissful surrender.

He smiled into her neck and then brought his lips up to brush teasingly against hers. "_You_ are very distracting. I can't keep myself away from you."

"I don't mind."

Their eyes met, identical, and very suggestive, smiles flittering across their lips, and then he suddenly had her pinned underneath him. Ginny let out a giggle, and just as Draco was about to devour her with kisses, someone knocked at the door.

They both froze.

"Draco, are you in there? I need to talk to you."

"It's Armande," whispered Ginny, staring up into her husband's face in some frustration. "What does he want?"

"I don't know, but knowing him he won't rest until I meet him."

"Do you have to go?"

His eyes gleamed in a smile. "Believe me, if I had my way I'd stay right here with you."

"Then stay," she insisted, wrapping her legs around his waist to hold him captive. "Armande can wait."

To refute her point, Armande began pounding on the door with an impatient fist. "Come on, Draco! I know you're in there. An old woman like you can't be anywhere else." He sniggered at his own joke and then gave another thud on the door. "Open up!"

"Can't it wait?" exclaimed Ginny, now thoroughly irritated. The mood was completely ruined.

"Is that you, Ginny?"

"Who else would it be?" she responded with a snort.

"Is Draco in there with you? I really need to talk to him."

Draco sighed and pushed the covers off them, disentangling himself from his wife's legs in the process. "I'd better go see what he wants," he muttered to Ginny, and began looking for his pants.

"Fine," she sighed, collapsing back against the pillows.

He smiled at her grumpy tone and leaned down, giving her a small kiss. "I won't be long."

She grabbed his face and locked her lips with his, giving him a much more satisfying kiss then the paltry peck he had give her. "You'd better not," she said fiercely, and then released him again.

Draco's smile grew, but Armande's sudden declaration that he was coming in abruptly changed the young Malfoy's expression to that of exasperation. "Just wait!" yelled Draco, annoyed. He quickly pulled on his pants and then made his way over to the door, flinging it ruthlessly open as he growled, "_What_?"

Armande blinked, looking very boyish and innocent—a complete contrast to his irate cousin. "What do you mean '_what_'? Is that anyway to be talking to your favourite cousin?"

"I'm kind of busy right now, Armande, so unless this is important…"

"Busy with what?" Armande peered around Draco's body and spotted Ginny sitting up in the bed, the rumpled sheet gathered around her breasts to cover her nakedness. His eyes picked up on the clothes discarded at random near the bed, and then took in Draco's own dishevelled appearance. A grin formed on his face. "Oh. So that's how it is, is it?"

"Like I said," repeated Draco, "I'm kind of busy."

Armande winked. "I understand."

"Right…"

"Well, I suppose it can wait till later. Come to the Manor when you're finished." Armande frowned and then added in a low voice: "You'd better bring Ginny as well; this does concern the both of you."

"What are you talking about?"

Armande shook his head. "I'll tell you later. Wouldn't want to spoil your moment."

Draco couldn't help but smile at that. "Thank you, Armande. We'll be there later."

"Alright. I'll see you then."

Armande gave one last glance at Ginny, threw a speaking grin at Draco, and then disapparated with a small pop.

Draco closed the door and then turned back to his wife. "Sorry about that."

Ginny only smiled, still clutching the sheet to her body, and beckoned him to come to her with one finger. The corners of his mouth twitched, and obediently he made his way towards her. She leaned forward to meet him, one hand curling around his neck, and fastened her lips with his; gradually shifting back as he knelt down on the bed with her.

Moving his lips more earnestly against hers, he pushed her down against the bed, hands gliding from her waist to her thighs; pulling her closer to him so that his own body fit snugly between her legs. The kisses became more intense, their breathing coming short and fast. Control was fast slipping away from them.

Draco groaned and reluctantly pulled his lips away. "We should probably stop now."

"Why?" she demanded, a slightly petulant tone to her voice.

"Because you are far too tempting for your own good."

Ginny flushed with pleasure. Running her hands down his bare chest, she suggested persuasively, "We don't have to stop."

Draco caught her hands before they could go any lower, holding them captive in his own. "I never knew what a fiend you were for sex," he teased, amused.

Her lips pouted. "Is it so wrong to want to be with my husband?"

"Right now it is. I'm afraid I won't be able to let you off this bed if we stay here."

"Then I'll be your prisoner," declared his wife with a wicked smile, though it was her legs that now trapped him.

"You're making this very difficult for me. I'm trying to be good here."

"I don't need you to be good." Ginny leaned forward and whispered into his ear: "I just need _you_."

Draco, needless to say, was more than happy to comply.

**OOOO**

It was some time later before the couple dragged themselves away from the bedroom, and even longer before they were dressed. The bath, which they had naturally shared, was spent mostly exploring the other's lips rather than washing, but they did eventually manage to wash and dress themselves before retiring to the dining hall where they shared a very hearty brunch together. Both had quite the appetite.

When they finally disapparated to Malfoy Manor it was already pressing on into the late afternoon. Draco smiled affectionately at Ginny, holding her close to him by an arm around her waist, and guided her into the parlour where Armande, Narcissa and Alexia were currently residing. All three glanced up at their entrance, Narcissa's sharp eyes quick to notice Draco's hand resting snugly on his wife's hip.

"Sorry we're a bit late," Draco apologised.

"We got a bit distracted," explained Ginny, glancing up at her husband with a small smile curving her lips.

Narcissa's eyebrow rose. She shot an enquiring glance at Armande—who nodded once—and then turned back to her son and his wife. "Well, I'm sure no one is going to eat you for being late. Please, sit down."

Draco and Ginny took a seat together on the only free couch, their bodies naturally inclining towards each other. It was impossible not to see the bloom of new love glowing over them. It sparkled in their eyes, clung to their smiles, and radiated in the colour of their cheeks. For the first time they looked like the newly wedded couple that they were.

Narcissa could not have been more proud or more relieved (especially after what she had found out this morning), but that still was not enough to deter her from the real reason why she wished to speak to them.

"I take it things are well for you?" she asked, watching them closely.

Ginny nodded, leaning back into her husband's chest. He wrapped one arm loosely around her waist.

"Draco takes very good care of me," said Ginny, turning her face up to smile at her husband.

Alexia scowled.

"I'm sure he does more than that," muttered Armande, sniggering.

A light flush mounted on the couple's cheeks.

Alexia scowled even more.

Narcissa turned a reproving stare on Armande, who immediately fell silent, and then once more directed her penetrating gaze on the young couple. "Well, I am pleased to hear that, of course, but I own myself a little surprised. I heard what happened two days ago. I assumed that something had occurred to cause a disturbance in your marriage."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Draco, quite puzzled.

"Your little muggle brawl with Blaise," answered Alexia, resting her acidic eyes on Draco with a cold smile. "It's caused quite the stir. Everyone's talking about it; or, should I say, everyone is talking about _why_ you were threatening to kill Blaise Zabini, let alone attacked him in the first place."

Ginny's eyes darted to her husband's face. "What's this?"

Draco's expression became very sheepish. "I, uh, confronted Zabini when I saw the two of you in town. Let's just say that I didn't exactly take well to his explanations."

"Good. He deserved it."

"That may well be, Ginevra," interposed Narcissa, "But Draco's behaviour has now given rise to some very unwelcome speculation. People have naturally assumed that you are the cause of the fight—Mr Zabini never is in trouble except when it involves women—and that, my child, is something you do not want. It doesn't help that Mr Zabini himself is doing nothing to refute the gossip."

"But it's not true!" cried Ginny. "Whatever people are saying is not true at all! Draco, tell them!"

"She's right," sighed Draco. "I made a mistake. I thought that Zabini had—" He broke off and exchanged a quick glance with his distressed wife. "Well, it doesn't matter what I thought, but I was wrong, anyway. Zabini, of course, took advantage of my irrational anger and led me to believe some very stupid lies. I was too angry to think and lost my head. I hit him, twice, but he escaped after that. I suppose he's spreading this now just to spite me."

"Undoubtedly," agreed Narcissa, "But it was very foolish of you to attack the man in a public street. Whether he has spread this absurd tale himself or not, you can count on it that those who witnessed your dispute with Mr Zabini have already told all their friends what they saw. It no longer matters what is the truth; it only matters that people saw you threatening Mr Zabini—everything else will be fabricated by people's gossip-obsessed imaginations."

"I wanted to tell you before," said Armande, his expression grim. "I heard about it from Theo this morning, but by the time I got home from calling on you, it seemed that it had already spread throughout the rest of town. Aunt Cissy already knew, anyway."

"Yes," added Alexia, a spiteful gleam in her eyes, "And now everyone believes Ginevra is nothing more than a common whore."

Draco glared at her. "I don't know why you look so pleased, Alexia. I've thought that of you these past four years."

"That's enough, Draco," scolded Narcissa. "There is no need to be rude."

"Then tell Alexia to keep her stupid mouth shut," snapped Draco, still glowering at his cousin.

"There's no smoke without fire," retorted Alexia, smirking. "Even you must have thought it if you punched Blaise."

"And I was an idiot to do so. _That_ fire was just a fabrication of my imagination. _You_, on the other hand, have already proved what an unprincipled slut you are. I haven't forgotten that summer, Alexia."

"_Draco!_" threatened his mother warningly. "That is enough! I will not have you speaking of your cousin in that way." Her sharp eyes then focussed on the now flushing (but still glaring) Alexia. "You too, Alexia. If you cannot behave yourself then you can leave."

Both cousins finally fell silent, though neither took their cold glares of the other's face. For a moment there was tense silence, and then—

"Alexia is right, though," said Armande, giving an apologetic glance at Ginny. "That is what people are thinking of you. They saw you walking with Blaise down the street before the fight; it's only natural that they should think you were having an affair with him."

"Well I wasn't."

"We know, Ginevra," soothed Narcissa, casting another warning glare at Alexia, who looked ready to argue the matter, "But the fact remains that people believe you are. Even if you tried to say otherwise, people would not believe you—jealousy and pettiness will ensure that—and now you are going to find society very difficult to live in. Many people have affairs, my dear, but unless a woman is discreet she will find herself shunned from all but the lowest of circles."

"Then what can we do? My reputation is being ruined all because Zabini is a lying bas—"

"Language, Ginevra."

Ginny closed her mouth. "Sorry. Well, because he's an idiot, then."

Narcissa turned her cool gaze on Draco. "Well, son? What are you going to do? It was your behaviour that started this fiasco, even if it was Mr Zabini's lies that fuelled the fire; therefore, it is now up to you to solve this problem."

Draco was silent for a moment. "I don't think there would be any point in trying to set people straight. I think the best option would be to simply ignore the gossip. People won't be expecting that. It'll stump them, and then if Blaise truly has been spreading this stupid story about, he will be the only one who looks ridiculous."

"Very good, Draco." Narcissa smiled proudly at him. "You are quite right, of course. Those who spread gossip and those who let gossip get the better of them are always the ones who end up looking ridiculous. We shall all act as if nothing has happened at all." Her eyes narrowed on Alexia. "That means you two, Alexia. Ginevra is part of our family now, and we protect our family's reputation."

Alexia scowled but said nothing.

Ginny privately thought Narcissa was asking for a miracle. It was no secret that she and Alexia hated each other.

"We'll have to start frequenting more parties together," said Draco, glancing down at his wife. "We can't let people think that we are ashamed to be seen together, or that we are uncomfortable around each other."

"Alright." Ginny smiled and laid her hand over his. "That shouldn't be a problem."

"Not now," he agreed, tightening his hold on her waist.

"As much as I am happy that you two have finally gotten over your differences," interrupted Armande with a chuckle. "You're going to make me nauseous with all this open display of affection."

"Me too," scowled Alexia.

"Well, I for one am glad you are finally acting like a married couple," said Narcissa, in her usual calm way, "And I hope it will not be long now before we will be celebrating a new addition to the family. You are trying, I hope?"

"_Mother!_" exclaimed Draco, very red in the face.

Narcissa stared at him, completely unrepentant. "Don't be such a prude, Draco. You know very well that your father wants you to get Ginevra pregnant as soon as possible."

Ginny, now flushing a brilliant shade of pink, could only stammer: "We're working on it."

"Excellent," said Narcissa, "Lucius will be pleased."

Apparently he wasn't the only one.

Draco shifted uncomfortably, not at all enjoying this conversation. The last thing he wanted was to discuss his sex life with his mother. "Right," he said awkwardly, "Well, uh, Ginny and I might be going now."

"Why don't you stay for dinner? Your father's feeling better today and will be joining us. It's been quite some time since we've had a real family dinner, and I'm sure Lucius would like to see Ginevra again." Narcissa smiled at Ginny as she said this, but neither Draco nor Ginny believed it to be true. Grudging acceptance did not constitute affability.

"Of course, Mother," sighed Draco, obedient to the very last.

**OOOO**

"Well, I think that is the last time I go to one of your family dinners," said Ginny, later that evening, while pulling out the pins in her hair. "Your father is horrible, Draco, I hope you know that."

"It could have been worse," he said. "Think what it would have been like if he was in a bad mood!"

"He was only in a good mood because he was having so much fun embarrassing me," huffed Ginny, irritably undoing the ties on her dress. "Merlin knows how he found out about the gossip. He's a hermit that constantly wears a nightcap, for goodness sakes!"

Draco laughed. "I think you can lay that blame on my mother. She was quite paranoid this morning. I think she really did think you had an affair with Zabini."

"How flattering it is to see what great faith you and your family have in me."

His lips twitched. "Well no one believes it now, so you can rest easy."

"True, but your father still took great delight in reprimanding me for even daring to give the slightest suspicion that I may have. Of course it's all because I'm a Weasley who has no idea of decorum or manners and can't do anything right; never mind the fact that it was _you_, Draco, who punched Zabini and gave rise to the gossip in the first place."

"Believe me, I received more than an earful after dinner."

"Hmph."

Draco's grey eyes gleamed with amusement. "I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. My father just likes to have something to fuss about. He never really means what he says. I actually think he likes you."

"_Me_?"

He nodded. "You don't know him enough to understand, but he wasn't trying to be malicious tonight. He just does that. It's his…well, I suppose you could say it's his way of showing affection."

"What? Scolding people?"

"Sort of. It's hard to explain."

"Well if that's the way your father shows affection I think I'd be more happier staying in his bad books. You're quite welcome to his scolds."

Draco chuckled at that. "You'll get used to it. He's really not so bad once you get to know him. It just takes some adjusting to his ways."

"Hrm," was all Ginny replied.

Draco smiled and came to stand behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his eyes meeting hers through the reflection of the mirror that stood before them. "Don't be angry with him, Ginny," he murmured, "He's just worried about us."

"Please. I think he's more concerned that our behaviour may have smirched the hallowed Malfoy name."

"That too," Draco agreed, "But isn't that to be expected?"

"I guess." She sighed and twisted around in his arms so that she was now facing him. "I just wish none of this had happened. You heard what your parents said. Everyone is going to be talking about us now."

"It'll pass, Ginny. Once society sees how little we care for the gossip they'll soon grow bored and move on to some other scandal."

"You seem to know a lot about it."

Draco smiled wryly. "My family have had very good practise at avoiding and ignoring unwelcome gossip."

"I see."

His arms tightened around her. "We have nothing to worry about, Ginny. Nothing bad is going to happen. Whatever people believe or say about us doesn't matter; all that matters is that _we_ know the truth. Nothing can change that." He smiled and brought his hand up to caress her cheek. "Just as nothing can change the way I feel about you."

She closed her hand over his, a smile coming to her lips. "I know."

They loved each other. Despite all the odds they loved each other, and nothing could ever change that.

Could it?

**OOOO **

Three days had passed since Draco and Ginny had become infamous for the scandal surrounding their names. Everyone was talking about it, and while most people seemed to believe that Ginny was not innocent of her part in the affair, there was no denying that the young couple's behaviour did make those gossiping tongues pause, if only for a moment. Neither Draco nor Ginny seemed to be fazed by the rumours circulating. Indeed, to the public eye they seemed closer than ever.

Right now Ginny was waltzing with her husband, a smile that could only be described as flirtatious playing on her lips, and her ready laugh easily being heard amongst the general hubbub of the ballroom noise. It was clear that she was enjoying herself, and even more so that she was enjoying being in the company of her husband.

On the other side of the room, suffering from painful déjà vu, stood Blaise Zabini. He once again found himself watching that sickeningly happy couple dancing, his eyes following the vibrant redhead that had taken an almost obsessive control of his mind. He had never wanted a woman so much as he did now, but in truth he was not sure what was more tempting: getting revenge on Draco or getting a taste of that tantalising wife of his.

"I would give up on that one if I were you," remarked Alexia, coming to stand beside him. "Whatever chance you had getting Ginevra Malfoy in your bed was dispelled the moment you foolishly made up those lies about her. You really didn't think this one through, did you, Blaise?"

"I'm honoured you've decided to take such an interest in my affairs," responded Blaise, never taking his eyes off Ginny. "But your concern is unnecessary. I'm well aware of how circumstances lie."

Alexia laughed. "You take it mighty cool."

"I have already suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of your so estimable cousin; I am not about to make myself appear more ridiculous by complaining. It is, however, unfortunate that Draco chose such a public place to confront me. I would not have had that story spread for the world—it really does me no credit at all—but, alas, it is too late to change that now."

"It's not like you to surrender so easily, Blaise. What's the matter, going soft?"

"Surrender?" Blaise turned and let his mocking eyes rest on her. "No, my sweet Alexia, I do not surrender. This is a setback, I don't deny it, but I am not ready to hold up the white flag yet."

Alexia's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "So you _are_ planning something?"

"I don't tell my secrets, love; not even to you."

"You're wasting your time. They're so in love it makes me sick to watch."

"Love is not an obstacle for me," drawled Blaise, carefully removing a piece of fluff from his dark blue coat. "I just make a new path to the target."

"It won't work."

His mouth curled up into a devilish smile. "We'll see."

Alexia frowned. Though she couldn't deny that she despised Ginny for taking Draco away from her—and Draco himself for rejecting her love—there was something so very unpleasant about the smile Blaise wore that made her conscience prick just a little on their behalf.

The right thing to do, of course, would be to warn them of Blaise's plans, but even as she thought this, she knew she never would. It wasn't in her nature to forgive and forget. She wanted to see them suffer, she wanted to see them humiliated, but there was no denying the devil playing in Blaise's smile made her feel uneasy.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she said seriously. "Draco will be out for your blood if he finds out that you've gone near Ginny again."

"I'm touched, Alexia, quite touched. To see you showing an emotion on my behalf that is not born from spite is quite an honour, but you must find me a very poor creature if you think that Draco's temper tantrums will stop me. He caught me unawares last week; I will not make the same mistake again."

"You're taking a risk."

Blaise laughed softly. "I always take risks" – his eyes rested once more on Ginny twirling around in her husband's arms – "When they're worth it."

**OOOO**

"Zabini is here," muttered Ginny with a scowl, eyeing the man in question through narrowed eyes. She was standing in a secluded corner of the ballroom with her husband, having grown tired of dancing, and therefore was at free liberty to glare at Blaise to her heart's content without causing comment.

Draco glanced up and followed the line of her gaze to see the tall dark man conversing with a group of friends.

"He won't bother us," replied Draco, giving a careless shrug. "He wouldn't dare."

Ginny clenched her hands into fists. "Even still, I can't stand this! He made up all those lies about me, and now I can't do anything about it because if I go and confront him people will immediately think that I really did have an affair with him."

A low chuckle escaped Draco's lips. "I already hurt him for the both of us. Can't you be satisfied with that?"

"No. I won't be satisfied until my own fist has made its mark on his face."

"Remind me never to get in your bad books."

"Why's that?"

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Because you're terribly violent, my dear."

"Please. You only say that because I'm a woman. If I was a man you wouldn't think twice about my wish to punch him."

"If you were a man we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Ginny laughed. "Fair call."

Draco grinned and then leaned down to steal a kiss, his lips lingering a bit too long to be considered decent for the public eye. Ginny blushed and pulled away from him. "Not here," she said firmly, "People might be watching."

"Who cares?"

"I do!"

"It works for our ploy."

"You're just saying that so I'll give in."

"Maybe." He brushed his lips teasingly along her neck. "And do you surrender?"

"Never," she declared, if a little breathlessly.

"No?" His lips trailed up higher, following her jaw up to the sensitive spot by her ear. "Are you sure you don't surrender?"

Ginny shivered and felt her body go oddly weak. "I won't," she gasped out, though her voice lacked any conviction.

"Liar," whispered Draco, smiling against her neck, and then his lips found hers and what little thought she had left vanished in a cloud of dizzy passion.

"Ahem."

Ginny and Draco abruptly sprung apart.

"Sorry to intrude," said Pansy Parkinson with awful irony, "But I do believe, Draco, that those two male ingrates you call friends are looking for you. They're with Theo right now."

"Vince and Greg are back?"

Pansy nodded.

"I don't believe it!" Draco glanced down at Ginny, an apologetic expression coming to his face. "You don't mind, do you? It's just I haven't seen them in months."

She shook her head. "Go ahead. They're your friends, right?"

"Yes, but I hate to leave you."

"Don't worry, Draco," Ginny said with a laugh, "I'm not going to die if you leave me to talk with your friends. Go catch up with them. I'm sure Pansy here can keep me company."

"That I can do," agreed Pansy, smiling. "You and I have a lot of catching up to do, Mrs Malfoy."

"Alright then," said Draco, "I'll leave you ladies to it."

Ginny watched him leave and then turned back to Pansy, now feeling just a little uncomfortable. She wasn't that close with the ex-Slytherin, and felt awkward being alone with her, but she knew that Draco would never have left her alone now that all the nasty rumours were going around about them. He was very protective, Ginny had found, though in a way she didn't mind that since it meant she got to spend more time with him.

"So," said Ginny, if a little awkwardly.

Pansy laughed. "There's no need to feel so uncomfortable. I'm not going to hex you. I just want to talk."

"Right. Talk."

Pansy's teeth gleamed in a smile. "Alright, gossip, but what else did you expect? It's what we females do best."

"Some males are pretty good at it too," Ginny pointed out.

"You're right. Armande Malfoy is terrible for gossiping, but then his name is spelt in the feminine style. Maybe his parents saw something at his birth when naming him?"

"Are you suggesting Armande is gay?" asked Ginny, trying not to laugh. "Because I seriously doubt that."

"I suppose, but don't you find it odd that it is the feminine '_Armande_' instead of the masculine '_Armand_?'"

"In truth I never thought about it."

"Well I have, and I find it odd."

Ginny shook her head. "I think you're looking into it too deeply."

"Maybe," shrugged Pansy. "In any case, that's not what I came here to talk to you about."

"Oh?"

"No."

"Wait!" cried Daphne, rushing towards them in a swirl of blue silk. "Don't start without me."

Ginny blinked and suddenly felt like she had been cornered. "What's this?"

"_Stupid_," said Daphne, "Do you really think we're going to let you get away without giving us any juicy details? The benefits of friends is that you get to learn the truth of any gossip first-hand, and we are very curious to find out the truth, dear Ginny."

"That's right," Pansy agreed. "We've heard all about your supposed affair with Blaise, though after witnessing you and Draco snogging the living daylights out of each other I'm beginning to believe that they really were just rumours."

"Or she could be doing both," interjected Daphne with an unladylike giggle.

"I would never do that!" exclaimed Ginny.

"Why not?" shrugged Daphne. "I would."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "That's because you're a tart."

"You're one to talk, Miss I'm-screwing-my-boyfriend's-best-friend."

"Actually, it was his brother, and I'm no longer seeing either of them, so there."

Ginny blinked. These two obviously didn't understand what the word 'faithful' meant.

"But that's completely beside the point," said Pansy, turning her attention back on Ginny. "It's _you_ we want to know about."

"But I haven't done anything," exclaimed Ginny. "It was all a mistake; though, if Zabini hadn't acted like an idiot in the first place none of this would have happened."

Daphne sighed. "How anti-climatic. And I so wanted to know if Blaise was as good in bed as people say he is."

"Well I wouldn't know," said Ginny, "And frankly I don't want to know."

"Why not? I heard he's very good."

Pansy laughed. "Don't you see, Daph? Ginevra here is obviously besotted with her husband and refuses to look at anyone else. I have to admit I don't know how you do it. I could never love just one man."

"Then you haven't been in love," responded Ginny simply. "If you truly love someone then it is impossible to even look at anyone else."

"Sounds boring," Daphne declared. "I much prefer being able to mix and match."

"Merlin, Daphne, only you would talk of men as if they were articles of clothing," said Pansy at her most driest, though her dark eyes twinkled.

"What's wrong with that? Clothes and men are very important to me."

"Really? I thought that being the prettiest girl in the room was the most important thing to you."

"It is," said Daphne, "But men and fashions come close."

Ginny couldn't help it. She burst out laughing.

"What?" demanded Daphne, perplexed.

"Nothing," said Ginny, still trying to hold back giggles. "Don't worry about it."

There was no need to set up the blonde's hackles by telling her how ridiculously shallow she was. Pansy seemed to understand the sentiment, though, and shared a knowing smile with Ginny.

Daphne stared at them suspiciously for a moment. "You're mocking me," she accused, "But you know I'm only being honest. Besides, everyone _does_ know I'm the most beautiful girl in this room, not to mention the best dressed."

This proved to be too much for her companions' gravity, and both Pansy and Ginny were seen to be clutching their stomachs to control their laughter. Daphne just stared at them in blank surprise. "What?" she demanded. "What's so funny?"

Pansy and Ginny only increased in volume, and after a while Daphne herself joined in, so that all three young ladies were giggling uncontrollably.

It was strange, but even though Daphne was terribly shallow and stupid, just as Pansy was often disconcertingly sarcastic and cutting, Ginny felt like she really was standing amongst friends in that moment. It wasn't the same as the close friendship she had with Hermione, and nor was it the same as the friendship she had with Kitty, but it was friendship nonetheless.

"You know," mused Ginny, sobering, "I never really thought I could be friends with you two."

"Oh Merlin, _please_ don't tell me you're about to go sentimental on me?" interrupted Pansy sharply.

Ginny let out a small chuckle. "What, no heart-to-hearts?"

"Absolutely not. You'll lose ten respect points if you even dare bring out that gushy Gryffindor rubbish on me."

"Ten points is a lot," observed Ginny. "Maybe I'll save it for when my score is bigger. Won't feel the loss so much."

Daphne giggled. "Don't worry. I'm currently in the negatives."

"And steadily sinking," added Pansy, smirking.

"You know you love me," Daphne sing-songed.

"Only on your good days, love. Only on your good days."

Ginny shook her head, smiling, and then spotted Draco coming back towards them. Crabbe and Goyle were following along tow, looking as trollish and stupid as ever, though much better dressed from the last time she had seen them at Hogwarts. Seeing them back in their old trio brought back a lot of memories, but Ginny didn't let it bother her. Draco was a different man now. Well, maybe 'different' was not the right word, but he had definitely matured from the bratty schoolboy she had used to know.

"Ginny," said Draco, leading his friends towards her. "You remember Crabbe and Goyle, right?"

"How could I forget?" murmured Ginny, but she extended her hand to both gentleman and bestowed a friendly smile on each. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance again. I take it you have been abroad?"

Goyle's cheeks stained a blotchy red as he took her petite hand in his much larger one. "W-we've been v-visiting family," he stammered in a low, awkward voice.

"Vince and Greg are second cousins," Draco explained.

"Ah, that explains the resemblance," observed Ginny, an innocent smile curving her lips.

Pansy and Daphne choked on giggles.

Draco's lips twitched but he said nothing.

"We almost couldn't believe it when Draco told us he had married Ginevra Weasley," said Crabbe, astonishing Ginny with his eloquence. "But it seems he was not playing his tricks on us, after all."

"Yes, he really is my husband," laughed Ginny, placing a hand on said husband's arm and casting a smile his way. "It's been almost two months now since the wedding."

Draco's smile reflected in her eyes. "Indeed it has."

"Yes, and no one got to see it except your family and Celia Adderson," put in Daphne, a disgruntled expression on her face. "I'll tell you, Draco, we felt quite smirched at not even being invited to your wedding, didn't we, Pansy?"

"I'm sure they had their reasons," shrugged Pansy. "I don't repine over it."

She turned to Crabbe and Goyle and started asking them about their holiday. Daphne entered the conversation, too nosy to remain silent, and once this was exhausted, dragged Pansy off to hunt for more gossip. Crabbe and Goyle remained only for a few minutes longer and then took their leave—Goyle blushing and stammering as he made his bow to Ginny.

"Greg certainly seems taken with you," remarked Draco, watching his friend's retreat with an amused smile.

Ginny blinked. "What?"

"You didn't notice? I don't think I've ever seen him so tongue-tied in my life, not to mention the fact that he couldn't keep his eyes off you."

"Too bad for him. I'm already taken."

"Really? He must be a lucky man."

"I think that I am the lucky one. He's a very handsome man, not to mention excessively rich. I'm quite the envy of every girl in society."

He grinned and tilted her face up towards him with the tip of his finger. "You little minx," he murmured, and then kissed her full on her lips.

Ginny smiled into his kiss, and then pulling her lips away, said suggestively, "Do you think people would miss us if we left the party early?"

"I couldn't care less if they do," came the husky reply, and then he gathered her up into his arms and disapparated.

**OOOO**

The weeks passed, and though some spiteful stragglers still clung to the belief that the latest Mrs Malfoy was an adulteress and did their best to sully her reputation at every opportune moment, for the most part society no longer cared about the nearly forgotten incident. What was one silly affair to them—which never was proved, anyway—when there were far more scandalous rumours flying about? Mrs Charing, for example, who was rumoured to be having twins to a man that was not her husband, was a much better candidate for conversation.

Ginny could only be grateful for the shift, and felt a great weight lift off her shoulders. No longer did she have to fear hearing her name whispered everywhere she went. There was no one watching her every move, no one sniffing about her business. People were finally leaving her alone. It was wonderful.

Taking advantage of this glorious freedom, Ginny decided that she would go into town and do some much needed shopping. Her wardrobe was in great need of replenishment, as she had already been seen wearing the same dresses far too often for her taste.

Though not as obsessed about fashion as Kitty or Daphne, Ginny was aware of how silly it looked to always be wearing the same dresses.

Armed with a frivolous hat, she disapparated to the nicer part of Diagon Alley, where all the purebloods shopped, and began a dawdling trek through each of her favourite shops. She was not disappointed, and very soon she found herself sending her purchases by floo back to her home, there were so many.

It was just as she was leaving her favourite hat shop that she spotted Blaise Zabini lounging completely at ease against the opposite wall, watching her with a smile that was calculated to make her blood boil.

She checked, hesitated, and then seeing him wave lazily, swiftly made her way towards him.

"You have some nerve," she muttered by way of greeting. "I have a good mind to hex you right now for all that you've done to me."

"But you won't," said Blaise confidently, "Will you, Ginevra?"

Her lips twisted into a scowl. "What do you want?"

"To apologise."

Ginny blinked. "What?"

He laughed his low attractive laugh. "I'm sure you are not deaf, so I won't repeat myself. It was not my intention to cause your name to be slandered by those fools. Believe me, I was just as frustrated as you and Draco were to hear those rumours being spread, and I know the blame lies at my feet. For that I am sorry; it was wrong of me to lie like that. I should not have done it."

"Do you expect me to forgive you?" demanded Ginny, highly amused, but irritated at the same time. "You lied to my husband and said that you had slept with me! I'd say that counts as something pretty unforgivable."

"Ah, but the temptation, my dear, was too great to ignore. Had you seen Draco ridiculously demanding of me whether I had slept with you, you too, I am sure, would have lied. To see him so upset, even for a moment, is something I will truly treasure for the rest of my life. Naturally I knew the lie would be found out, either by you or Draco. It's just a shame he chose such a public spot to vent his frustration so that other people had to know as well."

"That is hardly going to make me forgive you. You purposely tried to ruin our marriage!"

"I don't care about your marriage," responded Blaise candidly. "I'll readily admit that I wanted to stir things up, but you must understand, Ginevra that it was all in the name of love. You know what they say: all's fair in love and war."

Ginny let out a derisive snort. "You can't tell me that you're in love with me, Zabini. I know you're not, and even if you were, it still would not change anything. I love Draco, and as he happens to be my husband, you're just going to have to accept your loss and move on."

"I'm afraid that I can't do that, my sweet."

"Don't call me that."

Blaise laughed and lazily walked towards her, all at once stealing her personal space. "You're stubborn, I can see that, but just think about it a moment. Are you really satisfied with Draco?"

Ginny took a few safe steps back, not even realising she was being manoeuvred into the shadowy alcove hidden by a horde of crates.

"Yes, Zabini," she said firmly, "I am. You're kidding yourself if you think I would even contemplate being with you."

"That's too bad. I hate to force a woman."

Her brow puckered. "What are you talking—"

But the rest of her words were cut off through Blaise placing a firm hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened with rage. She struggled, but Blaise was having none of that, and pulled her into a suffocating hold.

"Don't worry, love, I'll take good care of you," he murmured by her ear, and then his grip tightened and they vanished with a loud crack.

**A/N: Okay, I just had to share this because it was one of those golden typos that you can't help but appreciate.**

**This is the fixed line: _Draco grinned and leaned down to steal a kiss._**

**And this is the original version that had the typo: _Draco grinned and leaned down to steak a kiss._**

**All I can say is thank goodness I noticed that one. Steaks and kisses? Not so romantic *laughs***

**Oh, and I also want to apologise if this chapter seemed a bit all over the place. I've been too busy to really fine-tune things, and every time I've found time to write I've been half asleep, so that doesn't really help.**

**Hope you enjoyed it, anyway, and of course I'd love to hear what you think. Hopefully I can update sooner next time.**


	24. Never Again

**Disclaimer:** **All that you recognise belongs to JKR. **

**A/N: I just want to thank you all for your support. I know I say it a lot, but I really do appreciate your feedback. I also want to thank you for your patience. Updating this fic has been very difficult for me over these past few months, but not a single reviewer has complained about slow updates. I don't think anyone could ask for more wonderful readers, so thank you for understanding! It has truly been a pleasure to read your reviews.**

**Now I know you're all eager to find out what happens, so without further ado, I give you the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it.**

**Never Again**

"_Don't worry, love, I'll take good care of you."_

Those were the last words Ginny could remember hearing before her eyes had slid shut from the force of an overwhelming darkness. Everything was hazy after that, but what was clear to her now was that she was no longer in Diagon Alley. Blaise Zabini, conniving little snake that he was, had kidnapped her, and—as she had quickly discovered—he had also taken her wand. She was now defenceless.

Grumbling a string of curses under her breath that would have earned the severest reprimand from her mother-in-law, Ginny clambered off the bed and began to examine her surroundings. She was clearly in a bedroom—it didn't take a genius to figure that out, as she had just been lying down, unconscious, on a large, four-poster bed.

The room was nicely furbished, but rather masculine in its taste. It was clearly the bedroom of a gentleman. Ginny realised it was probably Blaise's. The thought made her blood surge with rage, but now was not the time to plot revenge. She had to escape, or at least get her wand. Revenge could come later.

Ginny tugged at the door handle, discovered it was locked, and then gave the door a hard kick.

The door remained stubbornly closed. Ginny cursed again.

"Zabini!" she shouted, banging her fist against the wood, "Open this door now!"

Silence.

Ginny gritted her teeth, gave the door another kick for good measure, and then stomped back to the bed. She took a seat and glared at her only escape route, her lips twisting into a dark scowl. This was completely ridiculous. Just what did he think he was going to achieve with this?

If he thought he could ravage her, he would soon find out how difficult she could be. There was no way that dirty sneak was going to lay even a finger on her. Whether she had to use tooth or nail, she was going to fight back with all she had. He'd regret the day he chose to kidnap her. She'd make sure of it.

Still, she couldn't deny that she was worried. He was taller, stronger, and he still had his wand. The fact that he had been able to overpower her so easily in town was disconcerting enough—especially as she _had_ had her wand there—but Ginny tried to reassure herself that he had taken her unawares that time. This time she would not let him catch her off guard. It was just unfortunate that she didn't have her wand anymore.

"Stupid Zabini," muttered Ginny sourly, annoyed that he had placed her in such a vulnerable position. She hated feeling so weak, but no matter what happened there was no way she was going to let Blaise win. She had to get out of this mess, and she knew she had to do it herself.

A lock clicked and then the door handle was turning. Ginny began looking for something to arm herself with, discovered a book, and contented herself by throwing the heavy volume at her captor's face as soon as he entered the room. Blaise, unfortunately, managed to dodge the line of fire before the book could hit him.

Ginny huffed in irritation that she had missed her target, her aggravation only heightened by the sound of Blaise's low chuckle as he re-locked the door with his wand before pocketing it.

"You missed," he observed, now advancing lazily towards her.

"Stay away from me," she threatened, instinctively backing away from him.

"Or you'll what?"

Her back hit the wall. Ginny glanced warily up into his handsome face, her heart pounding uncomfortably in her chest. He was directly in front of her now, his smile somehow more devilish than before. In one fluid motion he had her trapped within his arms as he leaned forward to rest his hands against the wall.

"Well, Ginevra?" he taunted. "What do you plan to do? Because I plan to be a lot closer than this."

Ginny tilted her chin up defiantly, fear losing to her anger, and met his mocking gaze with her own eyes blazing. "Touch me, Zabini, and I swear you will never be able to function as a man again."

"Funny you should say that," responded Blaise, giving a wry chuckle. "Draco said much the same thing."

"Then perhaps you should take the hint."

"Perhaps, but where would be the fun in that?" He reached out to trail a finger down her cheek, her neck, and then daringly along the delicate curve of her breasts.

Ginny snatched his hand away. "_Don't_!"

"Why not?" He shifted his hand so that it now trapped hers, catching the other with his free hand before she could push him away. "Afraid you might like it?"

"You wish," she snarled, trying to break free from his hold.

His eyes lit up with amusement. "You're feistier than I thought. I didn't think you would resist this long."

"I'm sorry. Did you think I was going to fall at your feet the moment you pulled out your stupid seductive act on me?"

Blaise smiled, managing to show every one of his perfect teeth in the process. "No, I suppose you wouldn't, would you? But I think I like it better this way. It makes it more of a challenge."

"You're disgusting."

He laughed softly. "Perhaps, but then I never professed to be a saint."

Ginny only glared.

"There's no need to look so angry, love," he taunted, still smiling. "Didn't I tell you that I would take care of you?"

"What, by raping me?"

"Rape is such an ugly word, but, alas, if you cannot warm up to me then I'm afraid I will have to take you by force in the end. You see, Ginevra, no matter what your wishes are, I plan on having you."

"Why?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why?" Ginny repeated. "Why do you want me so bad? I'm not as beautiful as the other women of society, and don't give me that rubbish that you love me, because I know you don't."

"On the contrary, the more time I spend with you the more I find myself believing that I _do_ love you. There's something about you, Ginevra. You may not be beautiful, but—" his amber eyes suddenly burned with lust as he took in her face and body— "Merlin, you're seductive."

Before Ginny could even realise what he was about to do, his lips had crashed against hers, kissing her with an aggressiveness that quite took her breath away. Undeniably he was talented, but nothing could stop the revulsion from surging inside her at the feel of his lips interlocked with her own. This was wrong. No matter how good he was at kissing, this was horribly, horribly wrong.

She tried to pull away but Blaise was having none of that and pinned her hard against the wall. Gripping both her wrists with one hand above her head, he trailed his free hand down her body, his mouth still hungrily assailing hers, and began tugging roughly at the laces on her bodice. Ginny let out an odd little whimper, still frantically trying to twist out of his hold, and started kicking at any part of him that she could make contact with.

"Hold still, love. There's no need to be difficult," taunted Blaise in a husky voice. "You may even enjoy it."

"No!" shrieked Ginny, quite hysterical, but her protests were cut short as his lips once again captured hers. She knew she was too weak to physically push him away, but she also knew that if she didn't stop him now he would soon be forcing himself on her in a way far more insidious. His fingers had already unfastened most of the lacing on her bodice; it would not take him long to remove the rest.

In desperation she bit down on his bottom lip with all the force she could muster. Blaise broke away with a grunt and reached up to touch his lip where blood was already dribbling out. Ginny took advantage of his distracted state and pushed past him to escape from her trapped position against the wall.

"You little devil!" he exclaimed, half-laughing. "You've made me bleed!"

"I'll do more than that," she promised, breathing deeply. His kiss had left her feeling shaken—and not in a good way. Terror clutched at her wildly pounding heart, the pulse in her neck throbbing painfully fast, but that was nothing to the sickening dread filling inside her. Before that kiss she had not taken him seriously. Now she had good reason to feel frightened; but, true to her nature, she would not go down without a fight.

Blaise wiped the blood from his mouth and considered her for a moment. He must have perceived something of her thoughts in her expression, for an amused smile curled his lips. "Yes, I think you would," he agreed, unperturbed. "It seems I've underestimated you yet again. No matter, I won't make the same mistake twice."

He pulled out his wand and moved towards her, his eyes still gleaming with that mocking amusement that was somehow devilish at the same time. Ginny, now very alarmed, took refuge behind a round table and stared at him in a mixture of panic and desperation.

"Please," she begged, throwing her pride to the winds in the hopes that she could reason with him. "Please just let me go. I'm not worth this. _Please_, Blaise. Think of the consequences. Do you really want to go to prison over this?"

"Who says I'm going to get caught?" he retorted, smiling. "Better yet, who's going to believe that you didn't come here of your own accord? Those old rumours can be dredged up very easily, Ginevra. People aren't going to believe that you are innocent. They'll think you're just trying to cover up your own part of the affair, just as they believed you did last time."

"You're wrong."

"Am I? You don't seem to understand that society never truly forgets. They'll believe the worst of anyone, and who's there to say otherwise? No one saw me kidnap you. I made sure to wait until most of the rumours had died down before I approached you again. There were too many eyes watching us before, but now—well, no one really cares about you now, do they? But they will after this, my sweet. In fact, I'm banking on it."

Angry tears stung at her eyes. "You won't get away with this, Blaise. You think you've got it all planned out, but my husband will believe me, and when I tell him what you've done he will come for you."

"I have no doubt about it—in fact, I'm hoping you will tell him—but by that point I will already be gone, satisfied in knowing that I won."

"What are you talking about? Won what?"

"I don't forgive and forget, Ginevra. Draco humiliated me that day in Diagon Alley. I'm simply returning the favour. He's normally impossible to wound, but when I realised how much he loved you I knew that you would be the perfect tool to break that precious heart of his. Just imagine what our dear, strait-laced Malfoy will feel when he realises that his wife has been with another man? What will it matter if you wanted it or not? You'd be tainted, Ginevra: touched, kissed, and loved by me. Draco would never be able to look at you in the same way again."

"So that's it?" exclaimed Ginny, anger flaring inside her. "You'd ruin my life just so you can get revenge on Draco? Have you already forgotten that _you_ were the one who lied and brought his anger upon your head in the first place? _You_ were the one who couldn't get it into your stupid head that I didn't want you! _You_ were the one who wouldn't leave me alone! You've brought this all upon yourself!"

Blaise shrugged. "What does it matter if it was my fault or not? It won't change anything, and it won't stop me from having you. But don't worry," he added with a smile, "I'm not doing this just to spite your husband. Despite what you might think, I actually do have feelings for you. I'll admit that my falling for you wasn't part of the plan, but then who can control love?"

"Don't talk to me of love."

"What? You don't believe me when I say I love you?"

Ginny glared at him. "You don't even know what love is. You couldn't understand it even if you wanted to. The most you could do is destroy it."

He laughed softly. "You could be right; nevertheless, I am going to have you."

She watched him come closer, instinctively backing away again, but she knew there was no escape. He had his wand trained on her face, and there was no way she would be able to get it off him by physical force. Unless…

Ginny glanced behind her, caught a glimpse of something above her, and then turned back to face Blaise. Her expression was no less anxious, but there was a triumphant gleam in her eyes that couldn't quite be disguised. "Wait," she said, backing up a bit more so that her back was pressed against the hard brick of the fireplace.

"What now?" he said impatiently. His lust was transparent in his eyes. There was no disguising what he wanted.

"I've changed my mind."

"What are you talking about?"

"I—I'll do what you want," said Ginny, struggling to get the sick-making words out, but knowing she had a part to play. "You don't have to force me."

"Is that so?" he asked somewhat sceptically, pausing in front of her.

Ginny's eyes darted to the wand in his hand and then flicked back to his face. "Yes."

"I don't trust you. Nobody changes their mind that quickly; especially after the spectacle you just made."

She shrugged. "I figured if I had to have sex with you I might as well try to enjoy it, right? I mean, you said yourself that you'd force me anyway. I'd rather not suffer the pain, or the humiliation."

The corners of his mouth dropped and a crease formed between his brows. It was clear that he still did not believe her. This hesitation was not what she wanted. She needed him to lower his guard, to come that little bit closer…

"What's wrong?" she asked, pressing her body up against his, as she looked up at him through her lashes. "I thought this was what you wanted?"

Blaise met her seductive gaze, his own pooling with desire. Yes, this was what he wanted, but could he trust her? No. The answer would always be no, but then what did it matter? He wanted her. He doubted she could actually hurt him anyway. If she were willing, even if it was only pretend, he would take it.

His wand hand lowered, though he still kept a firm grip on the thin strip of wood, and then he was caressing her cheek with his free hand. "Don't think I don't know you're up to your tricks again," he murmured, and then he kissed her.

Ginny did not struggle. She allowed herself to be kissed, returning the pressure with her own lips, and twisted a hand in his hair. Blaise took encouragement at her response and gathered her up into his arms—all the while relaxing the hold he had on his wand.

Resisting the natural urge to pull away, Ginny remained malleable to his desires, letting him deepen the kiss as he wished, and even encouraging him to go further. His lips drifted from hers, trailing down her jaw to her neck, while his hand began its own explorations. The grip on his wand was now quite slack—almost forgotten.

Ginny reached back and closed her fingers around a heavy looking candlestick holder that was sitting on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. Her lips curved into a smile, her eyes gleamed, and then she was bringing her hand down as fast as she could.

There was a loud crack, a gasp, a heavy thud, and then all was silent.

Ginny lowered her hand, still clutching the candlestick, and stared with wide-eyes at the limp form of her captor. He had fallen face first on the ground, so that she could not see his expression, and seemed quite content to stay that way. His wand had rolled out of his nerveless fingers and lay inches from her feet.

"Zabini?" she said tentatively.

No answer.

She kicked him lightly with her foot. He did not move.

Ginny's breath caught. She stared at the candlestick with a mixture of awe and horror, and then quickly dropped it as if burned.

Eyeing his lifeless body with wary eyes, she knelt down and picked up his wand, her heart now beating uncomfortably in her chest. She wanted to check to see if he was still breathing, but she was unwilling to get any closer. What if he was just pretending to act dead so that she _would_ check and he could grab her?

Ginny shuddered. Best not to tempt fate again. If he was dead—she gulped—well, she'd have to think about that later. Right now she just needed to escape.

Using his wand to summon her own, she took one last glance at the still figure of Blaise Zabini—stomach twisting nauseatingly—and then hurriedly left the house. It was best not to try disapparation when she was so shaken. She'd probably end up splinching herself.

Realising that she was still holding Blaise's wand, she threw it shakily back at his house; not wanting to keep any reminders of what she had done. For all she knew she could be a murderess right now. It was an unnerving thought.

She hurried down the street, still caught up in her own thoughts, but her distressed broodings were cut short when she found herself stumbling backwards. She had banged into someone.

"Sorry," Ginny muttered, distracted, and was about to continue on her way, when a familiar voice smote her ears.

"Mrs Malfoy? Ginny? Is that really you?"

Ginny glanced up instinctively at her name, surprised to find herself greeted by none other than Theodore Nott. He looked as serious as always, but there was concern in his hazel eyes as well.

"Good Merlin. What's happened to you?" demanded Theodore, finally assimilating her dishevelled appearance.

She wasn't sure if she should tell him the truth or not, but the need to unburden her soul was overwhelming, and she was soon agitatedly explaining her story to him—if a little disjointedly. Theodore's expression was one of disgust when she finally finished. It was clear he did not approve of Blaise's behaviour or his methods.

Ginny, on the other hand, was working herself up into a panic attack. Her breathing was coming too fast to allow the needed amount of oxygen into her lungs, and her eyes were wide and wild as she paced up and down the pavement.

"What am I going to do?" she exclaimed, wringing her hands. "I think I might have killed him, Theo!" She turned on him, eyes still wild with the frenzy of her panic. "What if they put me in Azkaban?"

Theodore placed a calming, but firm, hand on her shoulder. "No one is going to put you anywhere, Ginny."

"I've seen people get put in there for less."

He shook his head, giving her one of his small, tight-lipped smiles. "You're letting your imagination run away with you. I'm sure Blaise was only knocked out. He's probably awake by now."

Ginny glanced behind her, as if fearing Blaise would suddenly appear and try grab her again, but then she shook her head. "No, you don't understand. He wasn't moving at all. I don't think he was even breathing."

Theodore's expression became graver at that, the shift so subtle Ginny had to wonder if she had just imagined it, but then he was smiling his serious smile again. "I wouldn't worry my head over it if I were you. I'm sure you were just too distressed to look hard enough. You've been through a lot. Why don't you let me take you back home?"

"I'll never be able to relax knowing I might have killed someone, even if it was that jerk Zabini," Ginny muttered fretfully.

"I promise I will check to see how much damage your handiwork has done as soon as I have seen you safely back home."

"Very well then," Ginny acquiesced; in truth, quite glad to get away from the horrible street and go back to the soothing comfort of her own home. "But you have to come and tell me what happened later, alright?"

"Of course."

"Let's go then. I don't want to stay here in case he isn't dead and _does_ come to find me again."

Theodore chuckled at that. "Oh, I don't think you'll have to worry about him for a while. He'll be very wary of coming near you again."

Ginny snorted. "I don't know about that. For a Slytherin he's got useless self-preservation skills."

"Nevertheless, I don't think Blaise is that determined to have a death wish. He'd have to be either very stupid or very obsessed to come near you after this."

"I wouldn't put it past him."

"Well then maybe it's a good thing if he _is_ dead," mused Theodore. "At least then you'll be left alone."

Ginny shuddered. "I don't want to think about that right now. Let's just go."

He nodded, grasped her arm, and then disapparated the both of them with a small pop. They reappeared in the foyer of her house; the unnatural silence clearly telling them that Draco still was not home.

Ginny let out a sigh of relief. She had no desire to tell Draco of this escapade, even though she had said to Blaise that she would. That was what Blaise wanted, after all, and she wasn't going to give him anything that _he_ wanted. Besides, after thinking about it a bit more, she wasn't sure if this would be one time too many for Draco. It was best just to let the subject drop.

"Will you be alright now?" asked Theodore.

"I—I think so. I'm just a little overwhelmed right now. It's not everyday your husband's old school friend kidnaps you, or that you find yourself wondering if you've killed said man."

"It'll be fine, Ginny. You don't have to worry about anything."

Ginny suddenly gripped his wrist. "Don't tell Draco what happened."

"Why not?"

"Everything was going so well between us. I don't want to ruin it."

"I'm sure he would believe you."

"He probably would, but I still don't want him to know."

"It's your choice."

"Thank you."

Theodore considered her for a moment. "You'd better fix yourself up if you don't want Draco to get suspicious. You look like you've just come in contact with a whirlwind charm."

Ginny chuckled weakly. "I'll do that."

He nodded, giving another of his small smiles, and then raised his wand. "I'll be back soon. I'm sure it won't take long."

"Be careful."

Theodore only nodded again before vanishing with a small pop.

Ginny sighed and headed off to her room. When she stopped to look at her reflection in the mirror she understood what Theodore had meant.

Her hair was falling out of its style, streaming around her face in tangled tresses. Her lips were still swollen, her wrists already bruising with traitor fingerprints where his hands had held her too tightly, and the lacing on her bodice was half undone, exposing the silk petticoat she wore underneath.

She looked a mess.

Tears gathered at her eyes, the torrent of her emotions finally escaping now that the adrenaline rush had calmed. Blaise had kidnapped her, he had tried to ravage her, and now he very well could be dead because of her. It was all just too overwhelming.

Crying softly to herself, Ginny stripped off her ruined dress and began smoothing out the tangles in her hair. She heard someone apparate downstairs, and thinking that it was Theodore, quickly threw on a dressing gown to cover herself, before racing down the stairs to greet him. She froze when she spotted blond hair rather than brown.

"Draco," she said breathlessly. "You're back from your meeting?"

"Bootle and I agreed the work could be put on hold for now." He smiled and came towards her, placing his hands on her waist as he pulled her close. "I just want to be with you today."

Ginny's heart fluttered as she met his tender gaze, and then he was leaning down and placing his lips against hers. For a moment her thoughts were scattered by the gentle powers of his kiss, but then she remembered everything that had happened that day, and the guilt and panic swirled back up inside her. She couldn't kiss him like this. Not now. Not after everything that had happened.

She broke away, eyes downcast, and took a small step back.

"Is something wrong?" Draco asked, watching her with a faint crease between his brows.

Ginny shook her head. "I'm just tired. I've been shopping most of the morning."

"You shouldn't' wear yourself out like that. You know you haven't been feeling the best lately."

"I—I know. I think I'll just have a lie down for a while. I'm sure I'll feel better after that."

"Maybe I should take you to a healer?" suggested Draco, eyeing her sickly pallor in concern. "You don't look well, Ginny."

"Honestly, Draco, it's nothing serious. I'll be fine after a nap."

"Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine," Ginny repeated, forcing a smile.

The frown still lingered in his eyes but he nodded all the same. "Okay. Call out to me if you need me."

"I will." She turned to walk away, stopped, and then swivelled back to face him. "Oh, and if Theo comes back, please come and get me. I need to talk to him. It's kind of important."

"Theo? What was he doing here?"

"He, uh, helped me with something. Don't forget to come get me when he comes back, okay?"

"Okay," said Draco, a little bewildered.

Ginny gave him a tremulous smile and then fled back up the stairs to their bedroom.

Draco stared at the staircase for a moment. He was not blind and he had noticed his wife's red-rimmed eyes and worn appearance. She had obviously been crying, and it did not take a genius to realise that she was still upset. He just wished he knew why.

"Perhaps she _was_ just tired?" he mused to himself, still frowning. She had been feeling ill lately. Maybe she was just worn out from everything?

A knock sounded. Draco didn't bother to wait for their elf to get it and walked over to open the door himself. He blinked when he saw his visitor.

"Alexia?"

"Are you going to let me in, or are you just going to stand there gaping at me?" snapped his only female cousin.

Draco stepped aside for her to come in, shutting the door behind her with a small click. "What do you want?"

"We need to talk."

"You can have nothing to say that would interest me, Alexia."

"This will."

"I highly doubt that. Your conversation gets old very quickly."

Alexia's green eyes narrowed. "I didn't come here for you to be rude to me. I came here to warn you."

"Warn me?" said Draco, surprised. "About what?"

"Your wife."

"And what about my wife?"

"Merely that today I happened to see her talking to Blaise Zabini in town. I was surprised, considering it was only a couple of weeks ago that they were rumoured to be a couple, but that was nothing to my surprise when I saw them leave together."

"Leave together? What do you mean?"

"It was hard to make out, but I did see the two of them go behind some crates. When I finally caught up to them they had gone. I assume they disapparated together. What else could be the reason behind their sudden disappearance?"

"I see. And so you thought that you would come here and tell me about it."

"Naturally."

Draco laughed softly. "You really are a fool."

"Excuse me?"

"Did you honestly think I would believe this rubbish? You've been spewing out lies about my wife since the moment I got engaged to her, and now you expect me to believe that you saw her leave with Blaise Zabini?" He laughed again, shaking his head with mocking scorn. "I think I know my wife better than you, Alexia, and I know that she would never do that."

"But it's the truth! I saw her talking to him! I saw them leave!"

"You go too far, Alexia," responded Draco coldly. "I've had enough of this. No matter what lies you create to slander my wife, it will not change anything. Even if it is true what you say, I _still_ would not think bad of her."

"Well I hope you won't regret listening to me, then, when Zabini ruins your wife's reputation because you failed to do anything."

"My wife is in her bedroom, sleeping."

Alexia looked a little stunned at this disclosure. "She's here? But—"

"Enough, Alexia. I don't want to hear it."

"Fine!" retorted his cousin with a scowl. "Don't believe me, but I was only trying to help!"

And with that she disapparated with a loud crack. Draco stared at the empty space where she had stood, a frown gathering on his brow. No matter how indifferent he had appeared to Alexia just then, her words had troubled him. For all her pernicious ways, she actually had seemed like she had been telling the truth.

He spun round and made his way up the staircase three stairs at a time, and entered his bedroom. Ginny was lying on the bed, hands tucked up under her chin, and her eyes blank as she stared fixedly at the wall.

"Ginny."

She broke from her reverie and sat up slightly, propping herself on one elbow. "What is it?"

"I'm going out for a while. I just wanted to let you know, in case you wondered where I had disappeared off to."

"Okay."

He leaned down and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back to check on you later."

"I'll be fine, Draco. You don't need to mollycoddle me."

"Humour me."

"Don't I always?"

He laughed lightly and then took his leave.

**OOOO**

Theodore invited himself into Blaise's house once he materialised back onto the street where he had banged into Ginny. He spared no respect for a man who had lost the right to deserve it, and saw no need to knock.

Glancing around the house through narrowed eyes, wand in hand, he paused when he heard a low groan coming from one of the rooms. Following the sound, Theodore pushed open the door and walked into the room. There, clutching his head, sat Blaise Zabini, very much alive, but obviously in a lot of pain as well.

"Seems that she hit you pretty hard," observed Theodore, fighting back the smile that threatened to shake the gravity off his face. "Ginny thought she had killed you."

Blaise stood somewhat shakily to his feet, wincing at every odd moment. "Well, as you can see, I am not dead, though I damn well feel like it." His eyes fell on the candlestick. "Ah, I see the candlestick holder was her weapon of choice. What a resourceful woman she is."

"Or desperate. You should not have done what you did."

"You're a Slytherin, Theo. Surely you must know that we'll use 'any means to achieve our ends?'"

"That's no excuse."

Blaise only shrugged. "She got away, anyway."

"You don't seem too bothered that she got away."

He shrugged again. "I don't know. Perhaps it's better this way?"

Theodore frowned. "There's no keeping up with you. Before you were going to the ends of the earth just to get her."

Blaise smiled somewhat wryly. "I like the chase, I like the game, but I don't like getting hurt. Ginevra is an attractive woman, passionate too, but I know when I've bitten off more than I can chew. She is too dedicated to Draco to play _my_ games."

"I see."

He chuckled. "Do you?"

Theodore only frowned. "What are you going to do now?"

Blaise sighed. "Now I am going to retire from England and make my fortunes abroad. I have no doubt that Draco will soon be after me in righteous wrath, and I would rather not be on the receiving end of _that_ again."

"You will leave then?"

"Yes, Theo, I will leave—very soon, in fact. You can tell Ginevra that I don't grudge her outwitting me. I could not be angry with her after such an admirable display of cunning, though I don't think I can forgive her for the bruises."

"That's… gracious of you."

Blaise laughed. "If that's what you want to call it."

"You're serious about this, then? You're serious when you say that you are never going to come near Ginny again?"

"Oh yes, quite serious. Every opportunist knows when to call it quits."

"Then there is nothing further to say. I wish you well in whatever you plan to do next, but I must warn you, Blaise, that if you come back and try to make mischief here again, it will be more than Draco who gets in your way."

"Going to play knight-in-shining-armour, Theo?"

"Ginny is my friend, not to mention Draco's wife. Of course I will protect her."

"Touching, quite touching. I've never heard you speak so sentimentally."

Theodore rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Listen, I have to go back and report to Ginny now. She hasn't told Draco yet, so you still have time to get ready before you have to leave."

"Much appreciated. There's still some things I want to do before I call England quits."

"I won't ask what."

"Best not to. Your morals won't like it."

Theodore could only roll his eyes again. "Goodbye Blaise," he said firmly.

"Goodbye," drawled Blaise.

Theodore shook his head, a reluctant smile coming to his lips, and then disapparated with a small pop. It was not more than five seconds later before Draco himself was materialising in the room.

"Zabini," said Draco in a deceptively amiable voice. "I think you and I need to have a little talk."

Blaise froze. He turned slowly to face the blond, his expression one of ironic resignation. "I suppose I should have known you'd find out somehow. Did Ginevra tell you? Or are you just omniscient and know everything now?"

"She didn't tell me. I have Alexia to thank for that."

"Alexia?" echoed Blaise, frowning. "Well… that's a surprise."

"Not really. Alexia likes to tell tales about my wife, but she seems to be telling the truth today."

"Ah, so you don't know what happened?"

Draco gritted his teeth. "That is what you're going to tell me. My wife is very upset, Zabini, and I want to know why."

"There's nothing much to tell."

"Somehow I seriously doubt that."

"If she's upset now it's because she thinks she killed me. I managed to get that from Theo."

"Theo?"

"Yes, he was here on Ginny's orders to see if I was dead or not." Blaise chuckled. "It seems she's enlisted him as her protector."

"That's all very entertaining, but I'm more concerned with why my wife tried to kill you."

"Always so serious, aren't you, Draco?"

"Get to the point, Zabini," growled the irate blond. "What did you do to my wife?"

"One of these days you're going to pop a blood vessel. Calm down, Draco, and for Merlin's sake, stop aiming that stupid wand at me. I'm unarmed, as you can see, and I'm not going anywhere."

Draco eyed him suspiciously for a moment but then lowered his wand.

"Good. Now we can discuss this like civilised wizards."

"Civilised my—"

"Tut, tut. Language, Draco."

Draco glared at him. Blaise decided it was best not to taunt the blond anymore.

"I kidnapped your wife."

"I already knew that," interjected Draco. "That's what Alexia told me."

"She told you I kidnapped Ginevra?"

"No, her story was more along the lines of my wife sneaked off with you."

"You didn't believe her obviously."

"Of course not. I know what my wife is like, and she would never go anywhere with you unless she was forced to."

Blaise laughed. "A hit, but, alas, you're right. That's where all the problems started, actually. You must know I've been trying to get your wife for a couple of months now."

"I did realise that."

"I thought I could humiliate you by using her, but she was too stubborn. I don't think she ever liked me very much."

"Probably not."

"Well, in any case, I tried to persuade her to go with me today but she would not. I had no choice but to kidnap her, but she was being difficult and I was forced to take drastic measures. When she finally awoke she was very angry and not at all in the mood to play my games. It was impossible to get her to soften up to me."

Draco chuckled in spite of himself. "I'm sure she gave you a hard time."

"She did. She bit me when I kissed her, and you have no idea how many bruises I have from her efforts to escape, not to mention the hideous lump she gave to my head."

"You should have known she would not take your nonsense sitting down."

"I should, of course," agreed Blaise, "But I was irrational. I wanted her. Forgive me for my bluntness, but you of all people would understand how truly seductive she is without even meaning to be."

"I do."

"Well then you'd understand my problem. Not only was she the perfect tool to hurting you, but I was damned well enamoured with her. How could I keep away? How could I take no for an answer?"

"Quite easily."

"You don't understand. I'm used to getting what I want, but Ginevra said no. Every time she would say no, and when I finally had her in my grasp she just slipped right on out again through my fingers."

"You failed, then?"

Blaise nodded. "She left before I could do any real damage. I realised then that she loved you too much to be of any use to me."

Draco let out a breath of relief. He had been worried that Blaise had actually succeeded there for a moment, but it seemed that Ginny had managed to escape before anything too bad could happen.

"You know, I have a mind to kill you right now for all that you've put my wife through," said Draco. "I can forgive you wanting to get revenge on me—it's what we Slytherins do, after all—but I can't forgive you for hurting my wife."

"If you think you can."

"I would like to, of course, but then I don't particularly feel like going to Azkaban over you either, so I guess you're safe for now."

"I am infinitely relieved to hear that you still have a selfish streak. I did not feel like dying just yet."

Draco laughed. "You should think about that next time before you try stealing another man's wife. There are plenty of single woman who would have you, you know?"

"I know, but they're all such easy conquests. I get bored of them very easily."

Draco could only roll his eyes.

"So what do you plan to do, Draco? Is it the shackles for me?"

Draco stared at him fixedly for a moment and then let out a small sigh. "No. I don't want to create any more scandal. I know you're not stupid enough to go near her again, and that's good enough for me."

"I'll be leaving today, anyway."

"Good."

Blaise smiled. "I know it's not on my account you're doing this, so I won't thank you. I will, however, wish you all the best with your wife. She's a rare woman. You're lucky to have gained her love."

"I know."

Blaise held out his hand in a truce. "Goodbye then. Next time we meet I'm sure I will have found a new way to ruin you."

A reluctant smile flittered across Draco's lips. "I'm sure."

They grasped each other's hand in a firm handshake, each understanding the other perfectly, and then Draco nodded once to the darker man and disapparated.

**OOOO **

"Goodbye, Theo, and thank you!" said Ginny earnestly, giving his hand a grateful squeeze.

"It was my pleasure."

She watched him leave, letting out a happy sigh as she realised that all was well. Blaise was not dead, he had declared that he had no intention of trying to make mischief with her again, and Draco was none the wiser. Everything was back to how it should be.

Turning away from the door, she made her way up to the room and collapsed back against the bed. She actually was tired now. Her relief had not only drained away her panic and fear, but it had also drained away a lot of her energy.

She closed her eyes, only intending to rest them for a bit, but it was not long before she had fallen fast asleep.

It was in that moment that Draco reappeared in the room. He spotted his wife's slumbering form, smiling slightly as he took in her peaceful face. She was always so beautiful in sleep.

Being careful not to make too much noise, he walked over to the bed and pulled one of the blankets up over her to keep her warm. The movement must have stirred her from her dreams, for she made a soft noise and then opened a pair of sleepy eyes.

"Draco?"

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

She shook her head and sat up on the bed. "It's fine."

"You look better," he observed, taking a seat next to her.

"I told you I would feel better after a nap."

"Did Theo not come, then?"

Ginny hesitated. "He did. Not long after you left, actually. I went to sleep after that."

"I see. Then you must know that Zabini is alive."

Her eyes flickered to his a little nervously. "What? How did you—"

"I was just there myself. Zabini told me everything."

"Everything?" echoed Ginny anxiously.

"Does that bother you?"

"N-no. I—I'm just surprised."

"He didn't have much choice in the matter. I had a wand and he didn't."

"I threw his away," Ginny confided.

Draco laughed at that. "It seems like you did more than that. I've seen the lump you gave him on his head. It's not pretty."

"Well I was hardly going to let him have his way with me. I," she glanced back up at him nervously. "I hope you're not angry with me."

"Angry with you?" repeated Draco, startled. "Why would I be angry with you?"

Ginny hung her head in shame. "I don't know if he told you but I had to lead him on a bit in order to escape. I didn't want to do it, but I didn't have my wand and I couldn't think of any other way to make him drop his guard."

"Very Slytherin of you," praised Draco, not perturbed in the least.

"You mean you don't mind that I—I kissed him back?"

Draco laughed again. "I think I know you well enough to know that you would never kiss him unless you had no choice but to. I may have lost my head the first time I thought you two were together, but I've learnt my lesson since then. However," he added, with a smile reflecting in his eyes, "Since you did not see fit to tell me earlier what happened—which I am I'm highly offended by—I am now going to use my privilege as your husband and punish you with my own kiss."

Ginny smiled, closing her eyes instinctively, and then his lips were against hers. The kiss was so tender that it almost brought tears to her eyes. This was what she wanted—what she would always want. Kissing him in that moment made that all the more clearer to her.

She wrapped her arms tight around him, deepening the kiss as her feelings grew to overwhelming heights. The kiss spoke for her where words could not. Relief that she had not lost him to the wiles of Blaise Zabini; gratitude for the forgiveness and understanding he had so freely given; and love for knowing that he trusted her and would always love her in return, no matter what happened.

Blaise may have tried to ruin their marriage, but in the end he had only made them stronger. Ginny knew that she would never fear being honest with her husband again.

**A/N: Eh, the ending got a little corny, but I'm too tired right now to care. Hopefully you can stomach the corniness and still enjoy the chapter for what it's worth.**

**I'll do my best to get the next chapter update asap.**


	25. A Delicate Situation

**Disclaimer:** **All that you recognise belongs to JKR. **

**A/N: Quite a mixed response from that last chapter. I have tried to clear a few things up in this chapter, but if you're still not happy with it, then I hope the rest of the chapter will bring back your enjoyment of this fanfic. Either way, Blaise has played his part in this story and will not be making a return, so you will not have to worry about any repeats of chapter 24. **

**I know that some of you have felt that the way I had the characters deal with Blaise's behaviour belittled the seriousness of rape/sexual assault, but it was not my intention to do so, and I apologise if I offended anyone because of that. I do take these things very seriously, but I admit it is hard for me to keep all that in my head when writing a fictional story. I'm afraid I was more concerned with my characters and what would happen to them rather than what readers might feel about the situation; so again I'm sorry, and I hope you will forgive me for not considering the matter more seriously myself. **

**A Delicate Situation**

"Did you hear," said Armande, helping himself to one of the snacks that had been prepared for them by the thoughtful Tooky, while randomly discarding one of his cards on the table. "Blaise has left England."

"We know," said Theodore, placing a card on the pile with much more precision.

Armande looked a little disappointed at that. It was a known fact that he liked to be the first to know and spread gossip.

"Oh," he said. "How did you find that out?"

"We were the ones who gave him the push to leave," responded Theodore. "Though Ginny was the real perpetrator, if you want to be completely accurate."

Draco sighed and threw his hand of cards down on the table. "I'm out."

"Hold on," cut in Armande, ignoring his cousin's defeated declaration. "Are you saying that you were the ones who made him leave?" He turned a pair of offended grey eyes on the older Malfoy. "You've been keeping things from me again, Cousin."

Draco shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "You have a habit of blabbing everything. I thought it more prudent to keep this one to myself."

"As if I would gossip about anything actually serious," retorted Armande. "Now what's this about Ginny and Blaise?"

"He kidnapped her in the hopes of getting revenge on me. You figure out the rest."

Armande's jaw dropped. "You don't say? Well I never thought he'd do that. I mean we all know he's a loose fish, but I never thought he'd be low enough to kidnap another man's wife just out of spite."

"That was the least of his crimes," said Theodore. "He hoped to seduce her, but when he realised he couldn't, I believe he had to use more forceful methods."

"That swine! He didn't succeed, did he?"

"No," responded Draco. "Ginny knocked him out with a candlestick before he could do anything."

"If that isn't Ginny all over," exclaimed Armande, chuckling. "But if he tried to rape her then what's he doing skipping off out of the country? You didn't let him go, did you?"

"What else could we have done?" said Draco, sighing. "Think of the scandal that would crop up if people heard about this? If I took Blaise to court it's bound to leak out, and then all the speculation would begin all over again. Ginny's already suffered enough. I don't want her going through that again. Besides, knowing Blaise, he would have just found a way to get out of it. You know what the ministry is like. Pay them enough money and they'll turn a blind eye to anything."

"Still. To just let him go like that—"

"It's better that he left than stayed. I don't think he'll ever come near Ginny again—she made sure of that—but as long as he remained here, so did the threat that something might slip out. It's better this way, Armande. Trust me."

"How is Ginny holding up, by the way," interposed Theodore.

Draco smiled slightly. "She's annoyed that I didn't hurt Blaise—it seems she's not satisfied he only got hit with a candlestick now that she knows she didn't kill him—but on the whole I think she's just glad it's all over."

Armande looked stunned at this admission. "You mean to say that you didn't even sneak in a hex? _You_, Cousin?"

"I wanted to," admitted Draco. "I wanted nothing more than to hurt him with every hex I knew, but what good would it have done me? Yes it might have made me feel better at the time, but it still wouldn't have changed anything. If anything it would have only made it possible for Blaise to lay a charge against _me_. I'd already lost my head because of Blaise once before; I wasn't going to give him the same satisfaction again—especially when my actions had the potential to hurt Ginny even further."

"You've changed, Draco," observed Armande, eyeing his cousin in wonder.

Draco shrugged. "Marriage does that to you. It makes you think about things you'd never even thought to consider before. I can't just go around doing what I like, or getting revenge on people because I can. I have to take into account what will happen to Ginny. I have to think about consequences, not just for myself, but also for her. You start seeing things differently when you think that way. You have to learn to prioritise; to be responsible for two people, and not just one."

"Well I hope I never get married then," said Armande frankly. "It sounds boring."

Theodore laughed. "I'm sure you'll be singing a different tune when you're a bit older. Getting revenge and doing what you want isn't everything, Armande."

"No, but it still feels good at the time."

"Maybe," said Theodore, "But I don't think Draco getting revenge on Blaise would have done much. We all know what Blaise is like. He's an idiot, and an adventurer, but he's certainly not a monster. I don't think he even really intended to rape her. Frighten her maybe, most definitely seduce her, but I don't think he ever actually wanted to hurt her."

"I don't know," frowned Draco. "Blaise can be quite ruthless when he wants to get his way."

"True, but for all that I don't think he would have ever taken things this far if it weren't for the fact that Ginny is married to you. You two have always been rivals more than friends. It's like you can't help but make life difficult for each other."

Draco chuckled. "That's true. We were always playing pranks on each other at Hogwarts."

Armande frowned. "Well whether he wanted to rape her or not, that still doesn't change the fact that he kidnapped her and tried to do her mischief."

"It doesn't, of course, but when you've known Draco and Blaise as long as I have, you just get used to things like this happening."

"No, Theo," said Draco firmly. "Not like this. Blaise took it too far this time. That's why he left, and I assume that's why he didn't care when Ginny managed to escape. This was all just a game to him, but there are some things that should never be made into games. I think he realised that when Ginny hit him with the candlestick."

"You're probably right, but that's why _I'm_ glad you kept your cool. It would have been just like Blaise to get all offended again if you _had_ hexed him, and then we would have had to deal with another of his diabolical plots, which would have only complicated things further. I doubt he would have been as gracious in taking his leave either."

"Probably not," agreed Draco. "He always was spiteful. I wouldn't have put it past him to have left a web of rumours to ruin both Ginny's and my own reputation before his escape to the continent."

Armande chuckled. "He and Alexia should have hooked up. They could have been spiteful together."

It was in that moment that Ginny entered the room to find all three men laughing.

"Having a good time, I see," she observed, coming to stand behind her husband.

Draco leaned his face up to receive her kiss. "Hello you," he murmured, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ears. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Very much," said Ginny, smiling in reply. Her eyes took in the cards on the table and the several chips piled before Armande. "Seems like you're doing well, Armande."

"I don't know how," muttered Draco. "He discards his cards without even looking at them. I'm sure he's cheating."

Armande grinned cheekily. "No one likes a sore loser, Draco. I can't help it you and Theo can't play cards any better than a pair of trolls."

"Now _that_ is an exaggeration. If you want to see trolls play cards, go play wizard's poker with Vince and Greg. It's quite an enlightening experience, and you'll be bound to win every time."

"I might have to do that. I've already spent most of my allowance."

"Already?"

Armande shrugged. "I needed to get some new things."

"New clothes, you mean?"

Another shrug.

"If I didn't know any better, Armande," said his cousin, "I'd swear you had the head of a female. I've never known someone to go through so much money on clothes as you do."

"What? A man has to look good too. Besides, if you haven't noticed, it is winter now. It's not like I packed for every season when I came to stay here. I thought I'd be home by now, didn't I?"

"There's a difference between buying enough to cover your needs and buying enough to start your own clothes shop."

"Don't be such an old woman. Everyone goes on a little shopping spree now and then."

"Your shopping sprees are the equivalent of shopping rampages. No shop is safe from you."

"I'm sure they don't mind."

"No," conceded Draco, "but your parents might."

"Are they always like this?" Theodore murmured to Ginny, whilst eyeing the two blonds in some amusement.

Ginny chuckled. "For the most part, yes. They always find something to squabble about."

"I see."

Both turned their attention back to the blonds, who were still having their rather inane argument and showed no signs of stopping any time soon.

Deciding to just leave them to it, Ginny took a seat next to Theodore and smiled rather slyly up at him. "I saw Kitty at the soiree. She asked about you."

"She did?"

Ginny nodded.

"What did she say?"

"Nothing exciting," Ginny admitted, "But the fact that she asked is a good sign."

"Maybe," said Theodore gloomily.

"Don't you start going all doom and gloom on me again. Kitty does like you."

He sighed. "I want to believe you, but how can I think she feels anything for me when she's off flirting with every other man?"

"Kitty is…very vivacious. I think it's just in her nature to flirt."

"I don't want a woman who gives me reason to feel jealous."

"Have you told her that you love her?"

Theodore's cheeks flushed a light pink.

"You haven't, have you?"

He shook his head.

"Then how can you expect her to pay attention only to you?" Ginny shook her head, her eyes lighting up with fond amusement. "Really, Theo, and here I thought you were intelligent."

"I suppose you're right." He sighed and ran a hand through his light brown hair. "I'm a fool."

"You're in love," said Ginny simply, "It's only natural."

He smiled at that, but before he could make a reply, Armande was demanding to know whether Theodore was going to continue playing.

"Of course," said Theodore, picking up his cards once more.

Draco stood up from the table. "Well I've had enough cards."

Armande sniggered. "Only 'cause you keep losing."

"No, I just have better things to do then sit here playing cards with you two," retorted Draco, unperturbed.

"Like what?"

"Like taking a walk in the gardens with my wife." He turned to face Ginny, bowed to her very much in the traditional fashion, and extended his hand. "Well, Ginny, what do you say?"

She took his proffered hand, eyes twinkling merrily, and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "I would love to."

Draco smiled and led her towards the set of glass doors that connected the house with the grounds. "Have fun with your cards, gentlemen," he called back, a smirk playing on his lips, and then exited the room with his wife; leaving a brooding Theodore and a foiled Armande to stare at their retreating backs.

Ginny chuckled as they walked further away from earshot. "Did you really have to be so smug about it?"

"They deserved it."

"So you _did_ invite me out here because you were losing?"

Draco let out a low laugh and came to a stop. He pulled her gently towards him, trapping her in his arms as he looped an arm around her waist. "Why would I ever want to spend time with those two over you?"

Her eyes twinkled. "Isn't that what husbands do? Mortify their wives by spending most of their time with their male friends?"

"Ah, but with Theo and Armande you can only do so much."

"Oh?"

"I couldn't do this with them, for example." He leaned down and kissed a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.

"I would be worried if you did," retorted Ginny, doing a brave job in stopping her legs from going to mush.

Draco chuckled, the sound creating a pleasant vibration against her skin, as he trailed kisses up towards her jaw. Instinctively she closed her eyes, her breathing quickening with the rush of warmth travelling through her blood. He was too good at this now. It was impossible to resist him when he knew all her weaknesses.

"Is that _all_ you can't do with your friends?" she questioned, slightly breathless, with just a hint of suggestiveness in her voice.

She felt him smile into her neck, and then his handsome face was swimming before her eyes. "No, my darling," he murmured, "There is the most deciding factor of all."

"And what's that?"

"This," he whispered, leaning forward to place his lips gently against her own.

Ginny sighed into his kiss, curling a hand around his neck as she leaned in closer towards him. It didn't matter how many times he had kissed her now. She still felt like she was floating away on some beautiful cloud of dreams every time his lips touched hers.

He pulled himself away, a small smile reflecting in his eyes. "Let's not get carried away, shall we?"

She huffed. "Why is it that I am always the one who is accused of getting carried away?"

"Well that's easy. I'm simply irresistible."

Ginny laughed and hit him playfully on the arm. "Git."

He grinned, and then once again took her hand as they continued their walk through the grounds.

There were no flowers in the garden, as it was well and truly winter now, but it was still beautiful in its frosted coating of white. Trees that had lost their leaves glistened with the icy drops of snow, and those fortunate enough to have kept their crowns of green now supported bundles of fluffy white on their branches.

Ginny looked up into the sky that swirled with deep blues and greys, watching as the scattered snowflakes fell in their graceful waltz towards the ground. She glanced back towards Draco, smiling at the snowflakes collecting on his hair.

"What?" he said, a slight crease forming on his brow.

"You have snow in your hair.'

"So do you," he replied, ruffling her red tresses.

She laughed lightly, ducking away from his hand, when suddenly a wave of nausea swept over her. Ginny froze, face ashen, her laughter dying on her lips.

"What's wrong?" demanded Draco, gripping her shoulders to steady her.

Ginny shook her head. "Just a little dizzy."

He frowned. "This isn't the first time this has happened."

She barely heard him, only muttering: "I think I'm going to go lie down for a while."

"Wait, Ginny." He grasped at her wrist, stopping her from leaving. "You can't keep doing this, you know?"

"It's nothing. Honestly," she added at his disbelieving expression. "I think I'm just tired."

"You're always tired."

Ginny shrugged, knowing that to be true.

"Why won't you just admit that there's something wrong with you?"

"Because there isn't anything wrong with me. So I'm tired? Big deal. People get tired all the time."

"And the dizziness?"

She shrugged again. "Lack of iron."

"You know very well you're not lacking in iron."

"You don't know that. I very well could be."

Draco sighed. "For once can we not skirt around the subject?"

"Who says I'm skirting around the subject? That's a perfectly good reason for why I've been feeling dizzy."

"Except that it's not the reason."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Fine, oh wise one, why do you think I've been feeling dizzy lately?"

"I don't know. I'm not a healer, am I?"

"Exactly. You're not a healer, so how can you know if I'm really sick or not?"

"_Ginny_."

"_Draco_," Ginny intoned, imitating his exasperated tones.

His eyes narrowed slightly but then his expression relaxed again. "Fine. Keep deluding yourself, but if you get any worse I'm owling a healer no matter what you say."

"Oh no you're not. I'm not having any healers fussing over me. Besides, I'm perfectly fine."

One eyebrow rose, the infinitesimal lift a clear sign of his patent disbelief.

Ginny glowered at him. "Don't look at me like that."

"Then stop being so ridiculous."

"I'm not!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "For Merlin's sake, Ginny, when are you going to stop being so difficult? Can't you see that I only want to help you?"

"This is _my_ problem, Draco. If I don't want to go to a healer, then you can't make me."

"No, Ginevra, this is _our_ problem. We're married, remember? Everything that effects you effects me too."

"I'm telling you that I'm fine! Look, I'm not even dizzy now. I feel perfectly fine."

"You don't look fine. You look like you're about to faint, you're so pale.

"Well you're pale too, but you don't see me kicking up a fuss about that and accusing you of being sick."

"I'm not the one having dizzy spells all the time."

"Ugh, you're worse than my mother!" declared Ginny, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. "If I say I'm fine, I'm fine. _Merlin_. You act like I'm dying or something."

"I'm just worried about you. Is that a crime now?"

Her face softened, and then she was gripping his hands in hers. "Draco, I appreciate the fact that you're concerned about me, but _please_, for the love of Merlin, stop trying to cosset me."

"I'm not trying to cos—"

"Yes you are."

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll leave you alone about it, but at least promise me that if you _do_ start to feel worse you'll tell me so I can bring in a healer to check up on you."

Ginny considered his words for a moment and then nodded her head. "I guess that's fair."

He smiled. "Good."

She rolled her eyes. "You don't need to sound so satisfied about it."

"Well when you have a wife as unreasonable as I do, it's perfectly natural to feel satisfied when you finally get her to see some sense."

Ginny made a swipe at his arm. "Git."

His lips twitched, and then he was gathering her into his arms again. "I'm sorry. That was rude."

"Yes it was."

"How can I ever make it up to you?"

"Never pester me with nonsense about healers again."

"Not that," he responded, chuckling.

She sighed dramatically. "Very well. I suppose I'll have to make do with a kiss."

His eyes lit up with a smile. "Now _that_ I can do."

Their lips met, if for the briefest moment, but this time it was Ginny who pulled away.

"Is something wrong?" Draco asked.

Ginny shook her head, a rather forced smile on her lips. "I'm just cold. Perhaps we should go inside now?"

Draco could tell by the ashen tone to her cheeks that her sudden wish for the indoors had nothing to do with the cold, but he knew that there was no point arguing with her again. She would just kick up another fuss.

"Alright," he said finally.

She smiled, this time less forced, and tucked her hand in his arm. He was not foolish enough not to know why she was leaning so heavily against him.

"Remember our bargain," he reminded her.

Ginny had the grace to look guilty, but she did not relent in her desire to keep things healer free. Draco had no choice but to help her back to the house, not letting her go until he had her safely installed under the warm covers of their bed.

Once he was satisfied that she was not going to suddenly get worse, he left the room and headed back down the stairs, all the while wondering when his wife was going to stop being so stubborn.

As much as he loved Ginny, she could be very difficult sometimes. Now was one of those times.

He just didn't understand. Why did she keep denying that she was sick? Normal people didn't do things like that. Normal people liked to make a big fuss about it, exaggerating their illnesses to extreme heights if only to get more attention. Normal people admitted that they were ill and were smart enough to get checked up in case there was anything seriously wrong with them. Ginny, however, wasn't normal, and Draco knew that her stubbornness was only going to cause more problems.

"I just don't get it," he muttered to himself.

Why was she so against seeing a healer? And why in Merlin's name was she determined to act like nothing was wrong with her?

"Where's Ginny?" asked Armande, as Draco walked back into the room.

"She's not feeling well."

"_Again_?"

Draco frowned. So he wasn't the only one who had noticed.

"Perhaps she should go see a healer?" remarked Theodore.

"If you can get her to agree to see one then I'll be much in your debt."

"Being stubborn again, is she?" guessed Armande, nodding his head understandingly. "Ah well, you always knew you were going to have a handful with her."

Draco slumped down onto the chair and began idly playing with one of the cards. "I just don't understand why she keeps refusing to see a healer."

"Maybe she's scared of them. People get like that, you know?"

"I don't think it's that," said Draco, shaking his head. "She keeps saying it's not serious enough to go see a doctor, and it's true that she doesn't feel ill all the time, but—"

"So these dizzy spells come and go?" questioned Theodore, watching his friend closely.

Draco nodded.

"What other symptoms does she have?"

He frowned. "Well, there's the tiredness, the headaches…sometimes she feels queasy, but she says that just has to do with her sensitivity to certain smells, and then there's the dizziness."

A crease formed on Theodore's brow. "It all fits," he mused to himself, "But surely she would have said something?"

"Said what?" asked Draco blankly.

"Nothing. I was just thinking aloud."

Draco's mouth pulled down into a frown. He was sure that Theodore knew something, but, as usual, his friend had decided to be cryptic.

Theodore smiled reassuringly at him. "I'm sure that Ginny will agree to see a healer if things get worse."

"Yeah," said Draco slowly. "Sure."

**OOOO**

Later that night he walked in to their bedroom to see Ginny standing by her dresser, her face pale as she stared at something in her hands. He couldn't see what it was she was holding—only catching a glimpse of a blue box—but the sound of the door clicking shut alerted her to his presence, and she quickly stuffed whatever she had been holding into her drawer.

"Did I interrupt something?"

Ginny shook her head. "No. I was just—I was just brushing my hair." She held up her brush for him to see, a somewhat shaky smile on her lips.

Draco almost could have laughed. Did she honestly think he was going to fall for that?

"I see," was all he replied.

"I'm going to go brush my teeth," said Ginny, already making her way past him.

He watched her leave and then looked curiously at the drawer. He knew he probably shouldn't snoop into her stuff, but old habits died hard, and her behaviour of late was enough to make him suspicious to the point where he had to find out what was going on.

Throwing a glance at the door to make sure she wasn't going to barge in on him, he walked over to the dresser and opened the drawer as smoothly as he could, careful not to disrupt the contents. His eyes scanned over the litter of items; perfume, a powder box she'd probably never used, and then his eye caught the familiar blue colouring that he had seen hidden in her hand.

Casting another quick glance behind him, he pulled out the blue box and examined the label.

"Tampons?" he read, frowning to himself.

The word was not foreign to him, but it was something he avoided saying just as he might a particularly foul swear word. This was a feminine matter he pretended to know nothing about, and he was quite happy to live in that delusion. Unfortunately, since marrying Ginny, he had had to learn a few more things about the dreaded issue, and the significance of tampons was one of them.

Draco placed the box of tampons back in the drawer and pushed it shut, a frown twisting his lips.

It just didn't make sense for Ginny to be so secretive about having her moon blood. They may have only been married for almost four months, but his first experience with trying to deal with a woman suffering from that feminine complaint of 'cramps' made him realise very quickly that it was better to be sympathetic and let her complain as much she as liked.

They had not had an issue with it again—though she was still impossible to live with once a month—and so he couldn't understand why she was suddenly being so secretive now.

Ginny walked back into the room, looking much more composed, and slipped into the bed. Draco got changed into his pyjamas and then clambered in next to her. She automatically snuggled up next to him, leaning up to plant a small kiss on his lips.

"Goodnight," she murmured.

"Goodnight," he echoed, wrapping an arm around her to keep her warm.

It was only when her breathing had steadied that he realised what was so significant about that little blue box.

It was unopened.

**OOOO**

Ginny sniffed at the eggs on toast with a scrunched up expression. It was a smell she normally loved, but right now it was making her feel plain queasy. She took a bite of the toast and then promptly regretted it. The taste was just as bad as the smell.

Draco eyed her pallor in some concern. "Are you okay?"

"I think" — Ginny blanched and held a hand to her mouth — "I think I'm going to be sick."

Quick to act, Draco conjured a large bowl and handed it to her. Ginny took it gratefully; consolidating her prophecy as remnants of the breakfast that she had managed to swallow made their reappearance.

Draco thoughtfully pulled her hair back from her face, though he seemed a little lost on what else he could do to help.

"What has Tooky done to me?" moaned Ginny, pausing in the upheaval of her stomach, and looking very green about the gills.

"What are you talking about?" asked Draco with a frown.

"Those eggs." Ginny's eyes flickered in distaste to the offending food. "They're rotten."

"They can't be. I had the same as you, and mine tasted fine."

"Well then _mine_ must have been rotten. I'm telling you, they taste disgusting. Ugh, and I can still smell them."

Her face ducked back into the bowl. It was a while before she resurfaced again.

Draco rubbed her back in soothing motions, all the while frowning at the eggs on the table. He reached over and grabbed her plate to take a tentative sniff. They didn't smell bad. They just smelt like eggs.

Confused, he shifted his gaze back to his wife—who was still clinging to the bowl as if her very life depended on it—and then he suddenly remembered the box of unopened tampons.

Just like that everything began to fall into place. The tiredness, the headaches, the dizzy spells—all of these symptoms suggested an illness, but none of them ever came in the connected flow of a fever or flu. She often complained about smells and was easily put off food, and now here she was throwing up over eggs on toast.

He stared at his wife, wondering if it was possible, but not quite daring to hope.

Ginny seemed to come to herself again, though still looked very pale. "I think I'm okay now. I just needed to get it all out of my system."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." She pulled a face at the plate of food still resting in his hands. "Just get those damn eggs away from me. I don't even want to look at them right now."

Draco vanished the eggs and the toast, as well as the contents of Ginny's bowl. "Better?"

She nodded.

He let out a breath. "Ginny, I think you should see a healer."

Her face contorted into a scowl. "Not this again."

"You promised me, remember?"

She met his eyes, the stubborn fire burning in her own, but he was not going to let her wriggle her way out of this one.

"What if there's something seriously wrong with you?"

"There isn't."

"But what if there is?" he persisted.

Ginny sighed. "Fine, but I'm not going to Mungo's. I hate that place."

"That's alright. We can owl the family healer."

"I should have known you would have a family healer," Ginny muttered under her breath.

Draco only smiled reply and then left the room to go sort out the letter and owl. Ginny extricated herself from her chair and trudged to the parlour where she collapsed on one of the comfy sofas. Seven minutes later her husband was back, Narcissa following gracefully in tow.

"Good Merlin, what are you doing here?" Ginny exclaimed without thinking.

"Now Ginevra," said Narcissa, an indulgent smile gracing her lips, "That's no way to talk to your mother-in-law."

"Sorry," said Ginny in anything but apologetic accents. Her eyes flicked to her husband. "Did you floo her?"

"Yes he did," answered Narcissa in her son's stead. She took a seat next to Ginny and clasped her hand. "How are you feeling, my child?"

"F-fine."

Narcissa exchanged a glance with her son. "When is Healer Perkins coming?"

"I don't know. I sent him an owl, but—"

A knock sounded.

"That might be him now."

Draco went out of the room to go and greet the healer. Narcissa turned back to Ginny and smiled fondly down at her.

"Everything is going to be okay, Ginevra. You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

Ginny swallowed. "I—I know."

The door opened and Draco and an old man wearing purple robes—who Ginny assumed was Healer Perkins—entered the room.

"Mrs Malfoy," Perkins greeted, giving her a kind smile. "I'm Healer Perkins. I understand you're wanting a check-up?"

Ginny found it quite hard to stay stubbornly angry when he was smiling so nicely at her, and could only meekly nod her head.

Healer Perkins pulled out his wand from his robes and gave another of his kind smiles. "Now I need you to relax. This spell won't hurt you, but it will feel a bit strange."

"Alright." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The healer muttered something unintelligible, and then a sticky sort of warmth seemed to sweep over her body, starting from her head and gradually moving downwards.

When it came to her stomach, the healer paused. "Ah," he said in comprehension. "Yes, I thought it might be that."

Ginny opened her eyes. "Might be what?"

His blue eyes twinkled. "My dear, do you know that you are one month pregnant?"

At first Ginny just stared at him, all colour draining from her face. Then she burst into tears.

Draco was at her side in a second. "Ginny." He took her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? Aren't you happy?"

"Happy?" she wailed, hiccupping on a sob. "I'm pregnant!"

Draco cast an imploring glance up at his mother. Narcissa instantly turned to the healer.

"Thank you, Healer Perkins. I think we can take things from here."

"Is the young lady going to be alright?"

"I'm afraid this has just been a bit of a shock to her," Narcissa explained, firmly guiding him out of the room. "Please. This way."

The door shut, sealing the unhappy husband and wife in the room together. Ginny bit down on her lip and turned her face away to stare at the wall. Draco kept his gaze fixed on her, his expression unreadable.

"You knew, didn't you?" he asked quietly.

Her lips trembled, the tears spilling down her cheeks, but she just shook her head and merely gave a pathetic sniff.

Draco sighed. "Alright then. Don't talk to me."

He stood up and moved away from her, feeling the faint prickles of frustration growing inside him. This was not how he imagined things to go.

Silence reigned for a few minutes and then—

"I didn't want to believe that I might be pregnant," confessed Ginny in a small voice.

Draco's eyes flicked towards her, watching her closely. "What?"

"It was only three days ago that I really began to suspect what was wrong with me."

"Why three days ago?"

"Because that was when I was supposed to get my period. I didn't, obviously, and the more you kept pointing out to me my symptoms, the more I began to worry. It all made sense, but I didn't want to accept it. I couldn't; so I kept making excuses, hoping that somehow I would find a new explanation for why these things were happening to me."

"So that's why you refused to see a healer?" he asked, understanding dawning on his face.

She sighed. "Yes. I was afraid they would tell me what I feared to hear, but I realised today that I couldn't keep running."

"Is having my child really that bad?" Draco asked before he could stop himself.

Ginny's expression changed swiftly to horror. "Of course not. It's got nothing to do with that."

"Then what?" he demanded, confused. "Surely you must have known you'd get pregnant eventually? It's not as if we weren't trying…"

"I know, I just—" Her eyes lowered to her hands. "I'm afraid."

"What?"

She sniffed, fresh tears blurring her vision. "I don't know if I can do this."

Draco was back at her side in an instant. He gripped her shoulders, meeting her eyes searchingly with his own. "Is that all that's bothering you? You're afraid you might not be able to do this?"

"I'm only nineteen. I don't know anything about babies, or how to be a good mother. What if I'm terrible at it? What if I do something wrong? I just can't deal with that, Draco. It's all too overwhelming."

"Ginny." He tilted her face towards his, wiping her tears away with his thumb. "You're going to be a wonderful mother."

"You don't know that."

"Well if it comes to that, neither do you. Weren't you the one who always complains about people acting as the voice of doom and gloom?"

Ginny couldn't help but give a watery chuckle at that, but she sobered instantly. "This is different, Draco."

"You're right," he agreed, "This is different, but it's not like anyone is expecting you to deal with this all yourself."

"But—"

"Listen to me, Ginny," interposed Draco firmly. "Everything is going to be fine, and _you_ are going to be fine. You have my mother, and your own mother—whom I'm sure will be more than too willing to give you pointers—to give you advice, and you don't honestly think that I would leave you stranded to deal with this on your own?"

"Well no," she admitted, "But I don't think you know anything about how to raise children either."

"Then we can learn together."

Her eyes crinkled up into a smile. Those words, so simply stated, were more comforting to her than anything else he could have said. Though she was still terrified at the thought of having a child, she knew now that at least she would not be alone.

"Come on," said Draco, hauling her to her feet.

"Where are we going?"

He laughed. "As my mother will tell you, it is now our duty to broadcast our good news to all of society."

Ginny sighed. "I suppose we will have to tell everyone now. I'm not looking forward to my parents' reactions."

"Why? Won't they be happy?"

"More like too happy."

He laughed. "Wait till you see my father, then."

**A/n: So a little short, but I've had major writer's block at the moment. The next chapter should be longer.**


	26. Breaking the News

**Disclaimer:** **All that you recognise belongs to JKR. **

**Warning: There are some allusions to 'naughty' behaviour, but it's nothing graphic. **

**A/N: A reviewer has brought to my attention that I have never actually specified the time that this fic is set in. I will now put that confusion to rest. This is set in the modern day, but I have written Pureblood society as being heavily influenced by the Regency era. The manners, often the dress, and the customs have been taken from that era. Everything else is very much modern.**

**Hope this clears things up. :)**

**Breaking the News**

"Stop fidgeting," scolded Narcissa.

Ginny let go of the ribbon on her dress that she had been nervously twirling round her finger and muttered a small apology.

"Really, Ginevra, you act like you're going to the stake. My husband is not an ogre. I can assure you, he will not be upset that you are pregnant." Narcissa's eyes gleamed with some secret amusement. "In fact, he'll be anything but."

"That's what I'm worried about," murmured Ginny.

Draco chuckled and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "You'll be fine."

They stopped outside the familiar door that led to the lair of Lucius Malfoy. Narcissa knocked twice on the rustic wood and then gave a sharp look at Ginny, who had once again resumed her ribbon twirling.

"Come in," came the raspy voice of Lucius Malfoy.

Ginny sucked in a breath and gripped her husband's hand tightly. "This is it."

"For the love of Merlin," muttered Narcissa, quite exasperated, "Enough of this melodrama."

The door was flung open, and without another word Narcissa had thrust Ginny inside the bedroom. Lucius sat in the bed, grey eyes flashing owlishly, and fixed up his nightcap that was half slipping off his head.

"Ginevra," he said coolly, still managing to infuse arrogance in his tone even in his sickly, and admittedly ridiculous, state. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I, um—"

"Don't stutter, girl."

Ginny blanched and glanced up at Draco, who quickly came to her rescue.

"We wanted to tell you the good news, Father."

"News?" snapped Lucius. "What news?"

Draco smiled down at Ginny and then flicked his gaze back to his father. "Ginny is pregnant."

For a moment Lucius just stared at them. His expression went from stern to slack, and then something incredible happened. He beamed.

Thrusting the blankets off his body, Lucius stood up and advanced towards Ginny with his arms outstretched. For one wild moment Ginny thought that he was going to hug her, but he simply grasped her by the shoulders, still beaming, and said:

"I have always said that the Weasleys breed like rabbits, but for once I cannot complain about the fact."

Ginny frowned, unsure whether to take that as a compliment or not, but Lucius was already speaking again.

"My son," he moved over to clap a hand on Draco's back. "I will never question your choice of wife again. She has made me very proud; very proud, indeed."

"Thank you, Father," said Draco, while trying hard not to laugh at Ginny's bewildered expression.

Lucius shifted his attention back to Ginny. "Pregnant," he repeated with a satisfied smile. "And now only nine months to go."

"Actually that would be eight months, Father."

"What?"

"Ginevra is already a month pregnant," Narcissa explained, her eyes warm as she met her husband's enquiring gaze. "It will not be long now before you can hold your grandchild in your arms, Lucius."

"Not long now," Lucius echoed, his sallow face taking on a healthier glow from the obvious happiness building inside him.

It was hard not to be touched by the sight. Ginny had never exactly liked Lucius, but seeing him so happy at the knowledge that he was going to be a grandfather made all the grudges she had been carrying against him fade away—at least for the moment.

For the first time she found herself hoping those months would go quickly. The whole point of this arranged marriage had been for Lucius to hold his grandchild in his arms, and now that they were so close to achieving that, Ginny realised that she really did want him to have that happiness.

Lucius seemed to come to himself, as if suddenly realising how very open he was being with his feelings, and promptly changed his expression from blissful joy to composed satisfaction.

"Yes, well" – he cast a sharp eye on his daughter-in-law – "I hope that you will take extra care of yourself from now on. We don't want anything happening to the baby, now do we?"

"I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to make sure the baby is healthy," promised Ginny.

"You'd better," responded Lucius bluntly. "I want to actually hold my grandson in my arms before I die."

"Grandson, is it?" queried Narcissa, raising an eyebrow. "And how do you know Ginevra won't give birth to a girl?"

Lucius lifted his head proudly. "Malfoys have always been known to give birth to sons. It's in our genes."

"Uncle Abraxias had Alexia first," Draco pointed out, seeing a flaw in this grand declaration.

"Well he doesn't count," snapped Lucius. "He's a fool, and a damned nuisance to this family. It's bad enough having his brats living here while he and his twit of a wife trail all around Europe."

"Oh hush, Lucius," scolded Narcissa, "You're ruining the mood. This is supposed to be a happy time. We're celebrating a new addition to our family, not how much you dislike your brother and his children. Besides, whatever you may say about Desiree, she is certainly not a twit."

"Maybe not a twit, but there's no denying she's got a few loose screws."

"And why is that, Lucius?"

"Because she married my brother. Only a fool would marry him."

"I don't know why you insist on holding this silly grudge against your brother. How many years has it been now?"

Lucius gave a haughty sniff. "He's not trustworthy."

"Well you'd best learn to get over your aversion because I've invited him and Desiree for Christmas."

"You what?"

Ginny was surprised to find that it was Draco who spoke.

Narcissa turned to her son. "They're coming to take Armande back home with them to France. It seemed ridiculous for them to come all this way and not stay for Christmas. Besides, I'm sure they'll be happy to hear the good news."

"Oh yes, simply delighted," commented Lucius dryly.

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Yes, dear, we all know you think Abraxias wants the manor for himself, but I think even _he_ would find it hard to kill all of us in between opening presents and eating roast."

"What's this about roast?"

Ginny turned and saw Armande standing in the doorway.

"Not _you_," muttered Lucius with loathing.

"Now, Uncle, is that any way to talk to your nephew?" retorted Armande, grinning.

Lucius muttered something under his breath, but Ginny could only make out the words 'imbecile' and 'just like his father.'

Completely unperturbed by this less than warm welcome, Armande advanced into the room and smiled serenely at his family. "Is anyone going to tell me what's going on, or are you all just going to stand there staring at me?"

It was Draco who came to himself first.

"Ginny is pregnant. We were just telling Father the good news."

"Yes, so that cuts you out of the inheritance, doesn't it, brat?" interposed Lucius, now eyeing his nephew with a smug smile.

Armande blinked. "Sorry?"

"Never mind him," said Narcissa, rolling her eyes. "Your uncle is just paranoid."

"Right-o." Armande transferred his attention back to Ginny. "So you've gone and gotten yourself preggers, eh? Well, congratulations, though I'm sure you'll be regretting it when you're being kept awake all night by a screaming baby."

Ginny scrunched up her face. "Thank you, Armande. That's _really_ comforting."

"Any time," replied Armande, cheeky grin firmly in place.

Lucius scowled. "Stop being so damn chirpy. It's getting on my nerves."

"Well we can't all be like you, Uncle. Some of us actually have a bit more life than a waxwork. Besides, you can't tell me you're not pleased that Ginny is pregnant. I can see the smile threatening to lift that stern mouth of yours."

Lucius breathed hard through his nostrils. It was clear that smiling was the last thing on his mind.

Narcissa's lips twitched. "Thank you, Armande. Perhaps you could go get Serino to get the food ready? Call your sister down as well. I think this occasion calls for a family lunch."

"Alright," sighed Armande, knowing when to accept a dismissal, and sauntered out of the room.

Lucius turned his steely eyes on his wife. "A family lunch, is it?"

"Why not? You don't think the occasion warrants it?"

He did, of course, but he was never going to admit it. That, however, didn't stop him from settling himself at the head of the table several minutes later, where he proceeded to conduct the family lunch like a master chorister, as if he had been the one to orchestrate the whole affair right from the beginning.

The conversation, naturally, was all about how Ginny was pregnant. She was getting rather sick of it, to be honest, (didn't they understand that she was still terrified about the whole thing?) but it was somewhat amusing to watch Lucius trying to contain his enthusiasm.

Like a typical Malfoy, Lucius refused to 'let loose,' as the saying went, and was very stilted in his raptures. Anyone could see that he was feeling as giddy as a schoolboy, though. He kept smiling to himself when he thought no one was watching, and his eyes kept flicking towards Ginny's stomach, as if a bump was going to suddenly form any second to proclaim that a baby really was growing in there.

She would have giggled, except she was feeling just a little sick right now. Lunch had decided not to agree with her. It seemed her meals had started a war with her nose on what could put her off the most. Breakfast had won with the eggs, but this cold chicken was proving to be quite off-putting.

Being pregnant, Ginny decided, was certainly no picnic, and she had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

**OOOO**

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Ginny blinked from her dazed stupor and stared up at Alexia, surprise etching itself into the frown gathering on her brow.

The 'family lunch' had finished, if a little anti-climatically, with Lucius dragging Draco off for a 'man's talk'. Armande had insisted on accompanying them and so the women had been left to fend for themselves in terms of entertainment. It hadn't been too bad, but then Narcissa had been called off by Tooky to greet a friend that had decided to visit, and that left Ginny with only Alexia for company.

She had been expecting petty insults or spiteful remarks. She had not been expecting Alexia to politely ask her for a minute of her time.

"You want to talk to me?" demanded Ginny incredulously.

Alexia made a noise of impatience. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to talk to you, idiot."

Ginny swallowed back any retorts she might have made, realising she probably deserved that one for asking such a dim-witted question, and stared curiously at the impossibly beautiful blonde. "Fine. What do you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to apologise, actually."

Ginny was quite certain her face was now mimicking the unflattering expression of someone who had just been stuffed in a moment of complete shock. Her eyes were glassy and her jaw had gone decidedly slack. Alexia's words were completely unexpected, and she wasn't sure if her brain could handle this mind-boggling declaration.

"Apologise? _You_? To _me_?"

She hadn't meant for it to come out quite so offensively, but she was too astonished to be diplomatic. The one woman who had always detested her and had tried without fail to make life difficult for her was apologising.

Clearly the world had been reversed today. Either that or _she_ was the one going crazy.

Alexia sighed, annoyed at having to explain herself, and took a seat next to Ginny. "Listen, Ginevra, I know I haven't been exactly nice to you—"

Ginny snorted.

"Fine," amended Alexia, "I haven't been nice to you at all, but I've been thinking lately, and I, well—"

"Yes?" prompted Ginny, curious now.

"Do you remember when Blaise kidnapped you?" Alexia asked, acidic eyes meeting Ginny's squarely.

Ginny nodded. "It did only just happen, you know? One doesn't usually forget things like that."

"Right…"

Silence.

"You were saying?" pressed Ginny, refusing to let the matter rest now that Alexia had pricked her curiosity.

Alexia fiddled with one of the threads on her shawl. "I could have stopped that from happening, did you know? I knew that Blaise was planning something horrible. I could have told Draco, even you, and I know you would have both been on your guard and none of this would have happened. But I didn't. Do you know why?"

Ginny shook her head.

"Because I was bitter. I hated the fact that Draco chose you. I hated that the more time passed the more happier the two of you seemed to become. I hated that he could kiss you and love you, but he could never kiss and love me."

Alexia's lips curved up into a twisted smiled. "I wanted to see you suffer, Ginevra. I wanted your marriage to crumble and burn. I wanted Draco to hate you so that you too could feel what it is like to have the man you love look at you with contempt."

She laughed, if a little hollowly, and fixed her acidic green eyes back on Ginny's face. "I'm not a nice person, you see. I could have stopped Blaise from hurting you, but I was so caught up in my own bitterness that I ignored my conscience. When I saw Blaise kidnap you, though, I knew I couldn't ignore it anymore."

"You saw?"

Alexia nodded. "I was the one who told Draco what had happened. He thought I was just being spiteful, but for the first time I was actually trying to help. I didn't know if you had gone with Blaise of your own free will or not—I'll be honest in saying I hoped it was the latter—but whichever way I knew that it would not be safe for you to stay with Blaise. He wanted to ruin you, and though I hated you, and though a part of me almost hoped he would, I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did nothing."

She smiled wryly. "It killed me to do that. Helping you was like willingly drinking poison, but I'm glad I did it now."

"Oh?"

Somehow Ginny doubted that. Alexia was still a nasty piece of work in her mind.

Alexia laughed. "You probably don't believe a word of what I'm saying, do you? Maybe you're right to do so. I won't deny I've behaved abominably towards you; I won't even deny that I still hate you for taking Draco from me, but I've had a lot of time to think, and in that time I've come to realise something."

"And what's that?"

"Draco is never going to love me. No matter how much I might wish it, no matter how many times I try dissuading him from loving you, he will never love _me_. You will always be his wife, and now you are going to bear his child." She sighed again, this time more heavily. "I guess this is my way of saying I'm giving up. I may not like you, Ginevra, but you're still my family, and I guess I've finally learnt to accept that."

"That's not really an apology," Ginny pointed out. "I'd say that was more of a confession."

Alexia rolled her eyes. "That's all the apology you're going to get from me."

"No, don't get me wrong," clarified Ginny. "I am grateful you've told me this. I think I can understand now at least, anyway."

"Good."

"But I still don't like you."

"Forgive me if I don't seem particularly upset by that," responded Alexia at her driest. "Your opinion matters little to me. I'm only doing this for my own conscience."

"I realise that, but I'll still thank you, anyway. I know what it must have cost you to tell me this."

Alexia merely nodded.

Ginny didn't need her to speak to understand, though. This was a truce, the only apology Alexia would ever give, but it was still one that would change their relationship forever.

Today truly was a day of miracles.

**OOOO**

Ginny was currently reclining on her bed with a very predictable romance novel in her hand. It had been three hours since her lunch at Malfoy Manor, and she was in no rush for a repeat of the congratulations, and probably very jubilant exclamations, she would receive at her own parents' home.

Draco, surprisingly, had complied with her wish to hold off for now from telling the Weasleys the good news, though for very different reasons.

Though Ginny had often visited her family over the months she had been married, Draco had not spoken to them since the wedding day. No one really expected him to do otherwise—though Ginny had often pestered him to come with her at least once—but this was an occasion that required both husband and wife to be present.

He was, quite naturally, reluctant to reacquaint himself with her family. In fact, one might almost say he was dreading it. The Weasleys' style of life was worlds away from his own, and though he had married their daughter, he still found the company of Molly and Arthur Weasley very awkward to be around.

Yes, Draco was not looking forward to meeting the in-laws again at all.

He collapsed next to his wife on the bed, a heavy sigh escaping his lips, and flicked his gaze to Ginny's face. She looked deep in concentration, but upon feeling his eyes on her, she tore her own away from the book and met his stare with a small smile.

"Yes? Do you want something?"

"Not really."

In truth, he was just looking for a distraction so he could stop thinking about the dinner he would no doubt be forced to suffer at the Weasley's home.

"Well, if you don't mind," said Ginny, purposely turning her shoulder to him, "you're distracting me from my book. I'm almost at the end."

"What are you reading?" asked Draco, ignoring her rebuff as he leaned over and snatched the book from her hands.

Ginny gave a half-hearted sighed, obviously realising there was no point fighting for possession of her book, and watched in some amusement as her husband stared in distaste at the cover—a very clichéd image of a generically handsome wizard holding a half-swooning witch.

"_Kiss Me Goodbye_," he read of the cover. His nose wrinkled slightly as he read the blurb. "It sounds trashy."

"It is," admitted Ginny, "But I still like it."

Draco handed her back the book, much in the manner of one holding something highly offensive. "I can't believe you'd read that rubbish over spending time with me."

"Maybe I don't want to spend all my time with you?" retorted Ginny cheekily. "Besides, every girl likes to read a romance novel every now and then."

"Reading romance novels can only do so much, though," argued Draco. "I can make you _feel_ it, and without the cheesy hero and corny dialogue, I might add."

"Is that so?" she responded, smiling now as she shifted to face him more.

"Most definitely."

"Prove it."

Draco raised an eyebrow at her; then, leaning in close, he whispered in her ear, "Let's see if your novels can do this."

Ginny's eyes fluttered shut as his lips brushed tauntingly against her skin to send little jolts of electricity shocking through her blood.

Instead of answering him in a bantering tone—as the rules of trivial debates insisted she do—she moved her face to capture his lips with hers, her hand coming to rest on his cheek as she shifted into a better position; lips still interlocked with his own.

_Kiss Me Goodbye_ slipped from her free hand and lay forgotten on the bed. Their childish argument, also, was already fast slipping from her mind in the face of the unexpected flame of desire that flared to life inside her.

She hadn't realised how hungry she was for him. It was like something had awakened inside of her that she could not control.

Without even realising what she was really doing, she was suddenly rolling on top of him; trapping him underneath her as she straddled his waist, her kisses becoming more demanding by the second.

Draco seemed a little surprised by her aggressiveness, but not at all turned off. His breathing quickened as he returned her impassioned kisses, following her lead, his blood changing to liquid fire in his veins.

Ginny's fingers deftly undid the buttons on his shirt, exposing the hard contours of his chest. Her lips descended to his neck, his chest, and kept on going lower in a seductive trail that made his pulse race with uncontrollable fervour. He felt her nimble fingers unbuckling his pants, and then she paused and glanced up at him, a wicked smile playing in her eyes.

He'd seen that look in her eyes many times before, and it usually didn't bode well for him. Considering the situation, he had good reason to feel a little alarmed now.

Normally he was the one in control, but somehow the roles had been reversed. He felt powerless to her, and yet, in vulgar terms, incredibly turned on by the sudden display of control his wife was showing.

A mischievous little smile curled her lips, and then her trail of kisses went even lower and he discovered that this was one naughty pastime of hers that he wouldn't mind helping her cultivate.

Needless to say, both agreed that the real thing was much better than reading about it.

**OOOO**

Ginny's adventurous exploration of her husband's body seemed to have a number of effects on him; the most noticeable being the small smile permanently fixed on his face. More importantly, however, was that he had finally decided he was ready to tackle the Weasleys—possibly because he was still too stuck in his euphoric state to fully fathom what that would mean.

That being said, since he had decided that _he_ was ready, he naturally assumed Ginny would also be ready. She wasn't, not in the slightest, but Draco was very persuasive, and soon both husband and wife were standing outside that toppling tower of a house aptly named 'The Burrow'.

Draco eyed the rather crude architecture before him with faint distaste. It was clear the house had been built using magic. Rooms and floors had been added higgledy-piggledy where needed, giving off the impression that the whole house might fall down in one particularly strong gust of wind. Even with the magic keeping it intact, he was amazed that it was still standing.

"This is the house you grew up in?" he asked, unable to hide his incredulity. He had always known she was poor, but he had never thought she was _that_ poor.

Ginny looked at her old home with that certain nostalgic expression you often see old ladies giving to photographs of their heydays. "Yip. This was my home."

"It's, er, interesting."

What an understatement that was. He was sure he had just seen a gnome go scuttling past as well.

A laugh escaped her lips. "Well it's certainly not Malfoy Manor, but it's home all the same."

"Yes," Draco agreed, turning his face back to stare at the rambling house. "It's certainly not Malfoy Manor."

They walked up the path, past the rusty cauldron and fat chickens—which Draco eyed with a haughtily raised eyebrow—and came to the front porch. He could see Ginny nervously patting her hair down out of the corner of his eye and had to suppress the smile that tugged at his lips.

"Why are you so nervous? It's your own family in there."

Ginny turned a pair of anxious brown eyes up to his face. "Aren't you nervous?"

"A little," he confessed, "but that doesn't mean I'm going to show it for all the world to see."

"Well I can't turn into an ice sculpture at will."

He smirked. "Was that meant to be an insult?"

Ginny huffed, reminding him very much of an indignant kitten, and reached out to knock briskly on the door. "Let's just get this over with."

Draco was still smirking, but then the door opened, accompanied by a jubilant shriek, and all trace of smugness was wiped from his face as he found himself being dragged into a bone-crunching hug by his mother-in-law.

Molly finally pulled away from him, much to his relief, and held him at arm's length as she surveyed him with a critical but motherly eye.

"You're looking peaky," she announced, almost as if it were a criminal offence.

Draco just stared. He'd been called a lot of things in his life, but never had someone told him he looked 'peaky'.

"He always looks like that, Mum," said Ginny, chuckling. "You'll get used to it."

Molly didn't seem satisfied with this explanation, but she let it slide and instead turned her over-exuberant attentions on her daughter. It was only then that Draco noticed the tall, balding man that was his father-in-law also standing in the doorway.

"Draco," said Arthur, holding out a hand in greeting. "Good to see you again."

"Sir," said Draco respectfully, taking the older man's hand in a firm handshake.

No matter what he thought of Ginny's family, he was not stupid enough not to show the respect they were due.

"Who's at the door, Mum?" a voice called out from somewhere inside the house. Draco thought it sounded horribly familiar to his wife's older brother, Ronald.

"Draco and Ginny have come to visit," Molly called back, beaming at the young couple with open fondness.

There was the sound of someone coughing—obviously having choked on something—and then Ronald Weasley appeared at the door, still looking just as gangly as Draco remembered him, if not more so with the extra height that seemed to be lavished on the male redhead with each year that passed.

Draco was annoyed to find that he had to crane his head back to meet his old schoolmate's eyes—something rare in itself, as Draco was no dwarf.

Ron's freckled face contorted into a scowl, and for a moment the two young men were locked in a glaring contest.

It must be said that there were vast differences between the two. While Ron was very open with his loathing—his expression equally matching the dislike in his eyes—Draco's expression could only be described as haughtily composed. Only his eyes, which had become very much like cold steel, revealed his true aversion.

"Weasley," Draco acknowledged, his tone polite and yet still somehow managing to make the name roll of his tongue in an offensive way.

"Malfoy," Ron gritted out through his teeth.

A ghost of a smirk flittered across Draco's lips. Ron clenched his hands into fists.

"Why are we all standing out here?" Molly exclaimed with a laugh, completely oblivious to the tension rising between the two young men. "Please, come inside."

The Weasleys trailed back inside, Ron only waiting to give one final glare at Draco before he followed after his parents.

Ginny rolled her eyes and turned to her husband. "Do you think you could _try_ not to rile Ron up tonight? Things are going to be bad enough without you two having a row."

"I didn't do anything," defended Draco, completely unapologetic. "I can't help it your brother is offended by my mere presence."

"I'm not saying my brother isn't blameless," conceded Ginny, "but I know what you're like."

Draco was the picture of innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

He smiled disarmingly down at her. "Let's not waste time arguing, Ginny; your family will be wondering where we are."

She frowned but allowed him to lead her inside all the same.

Ron was still unhappy that his old arch-enemy was in his home and seemed to be making a point in glaring at the handsome blond to the extreme. Molly was the opposite and couldn't stop smiling, her motherly hands just itching to fuss all over him. Arthur was the only one unruffled by Draco's appearance, and was thoughtful enough to invite him to take a seat—Ginny having already seated herself on one of the squishy couches.

Draco took a seat next to his wife, feeling more than a little out of his element, but masked it well with the relaxed, if slightly indifferent, expression fixed on his face. He had reverted to his social manners, which, as Ginny knew, were polite but extremely reserved.

This was going to be awkward.

"It's so nice to have you here," Molly gushed, still beaming at him. "We'd quite given up on having you visit us in our little home."

"Thank you, Mrs Weasley," Draco replied, forcing a polite smile. "I'm sorry I could not come with Ginny earlier."

Molly beamed, more delighted than ever. "Such a gentleman. It's so nice to talk to a young man that actually has some manners."

Ron made vomiting motions behind his mother's back.

"Ron," said Molly sharply, turning to look at her son — who quickly stopped his immature action — "You should take a leaf out of Draco's book. Merlin knows you need to learn some manners."

That graceless redhead stared at his mother in utter incredulity. It was obvious that the thought of learning anything from Draco Malfoy repulsed him.

Molly turned back to Draco. "You will stay for dinner, of course?"

"Actually, Mum," intervened Ginny, deciding to take the bull by the horns before she lost her nerve, "Draco and I came here tonight because we've got some news to share."

Mrs Weasley perked up instantly. "News?"

Ginny sucked in a deep breath. This was it. Once she said those words that would be the end of her peace. It was a fact that her mother just couldn't contain herself when it came to babies, but not for anything had Ginny been placed in Gryffindor.

She exhaled, unknowingly gripping Draco's hand, and met her mother's curious gaze.

"I'm pregnant."

The effect of those two words on the occupants of the lounge was rather comical.

Molly let out a shriek of joy and propelled herself forward to hug Ginny and Draco in another of her suffocating hugs, almost cracking their heads together in her exuberance; Arthur was smiling broadly; and Ron, who had never liked the marriage to begin with, had simply gone a deep shade of purple—whether out of fury, or from the sheer embarrassment that came with the realisation that in order for his sister to be pregnant she must have been having sex with that man he oh-so-loathed.

"Oh, Ginny," cried Mrs Weasley, as she pulled back from the hug, "This is wonderful news! Arthur, did you hear, Ginny's pregnant!"

Mr Weasley chuckled. "I heard." He walked over and pulled Ginny into a loose hug. "Congratulations, Ginny."

Ginny smiled. Her parent's happiness was infectious, and even with all her fears towards pregnancy, she found herself relaxing a little.

"Thanks," she said, her smile growing.

"You've got to be joking," exclaimed Ron, unable to stay silent any longer. "You mean I'm going to be an uncle to the spawn of a Malfoy?"

In a flash Ginny's hand found its way to her hip, her eyes narrowing on her brother's freckled face. Ironically, her mother had done the same.

It was Molly who spoke.

"Ronald Weasley, you apologise right now! Now we've talked about this, and I will not have your petty grudges getting in the way of your sister's happiness."

Ron struggled with himself for a moment, but there was no winning against the dominating fury of his mother, and his eyes lowered to his feet in shameful defeat.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"So you should be," retorted Ginny, glaring at him.

Ron muttered something under his breath but nobody deemed it important enough to demand clarification. The conversation switched back to Ginny's pregnancy, and in the interest of self-preservation, Draco shifted away from his mother-in-law; hoping to put some distance between them in case she got the desire to hug him again.

It had occurred to him that death by hugging seemed very real when Mrs Weasley was around.

He was just congratulating himself on making his escape—even if it did seem cowardly to leave his wife to the mercies of her mother—when a hand tapped him on the shoulder.

Draco turned, half-expecting to see an irate Ronald Weasley confronting him, but instead he was greeted by Arthur's benign face.

"Well, Draco, how does it feel to know you're going to be a father?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm still trying to get my head around it, to be honest."

Normally he wouldn't be so open, but short of ignoring the man, there was not much else he could do. He didn't feel like lying about such a subject, and in a way he was quite glad to be given the opportunity to talk to someone who understood—even if it was Arthur Weasley. The thought of confiding his concerns to his own father was laughable.

Arthur nodded understandingly. "It is a lot to take in at first. I was much the same when I found out Molly was pregnant with our eldest son, Bill. It gets easier as you go along, though."

Draco had to suppress a smile. Considering Arthur and Molly Weasley had six more children after their first, he was not surprised that it got easier for them.

"You're twenty, aren't you?"

Draco nodded.

"Hrm, still so young. Well, I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Thank you," responded Draco, barely concealing the sarcasm underlying his tone.

Arthur smiled, gripped Draco's shoulder in that typical 'manly' way men have of giving each other comfort, and then strolled back to talk to his daughter and wife.

Draco let out a sigh and leaned against the wall, a slight frown creasing his brow. His broodings were cut short, however, as another interruption took place—this time in the form of Ronald Weasley.

This was one conversation he would rather do without. He knew that coming to the Weasleys was going to be torturous, and he didn't even have Ginny to save him now. The traitorous wench was actually talking animatedly with her mother.

"What do you want?" demanded Draco, before Ron could even get a word in.

Ron scowled and folded his arms over his broad chest. Draco had to admit, for the first time the redhead looked rather intimidating.

"Just because my parents like you doesn't mean the rest of us are going to accept you into our family," he snapped, if a little mulishly.

"That's alright," replied Draco serenely, "I don't really want to be a part of your family, anyway. I married your sister, not your family."

Ron looked a little lost for words at that. He floundered for a good retort, and finding nothing, contented his frustration by glaring.

Draco only smirked, satisfied that he had dealt with that argument before it had even been given a chance to take fruit, and walked away to join in his wife.

Dealing with her parent's enthusiasm, he decided, was much better than dealing with her brother.

**OOOO**

Later that night Ginny lay snuggled up in her husband's arms, exhausted from the day's efforts, but content nevertheless.

"That didn't go so bad," she mumbled sleepily. "I was expecting worse."

"It was bad enough," responded her husband, remembering the parting hug Molly had gave him.

"At least the worst is out of the way."

"True."

Ginny smiled and cuddled up more against him. "I know we're gonna be okay."

Draco frowned, his eyes flicking down to the woman in his arms, but she was already fast asleep.

He smiled slightly, and though he had had just as much fears as his wife, he knew her words to be true.

They were going to be okay.

**A/N: Okay so I have had AWFUL writer's block. This is the worst writer's block I've had in a very long time, so I'm quite aware that this chapter is not my best. **

**However, in the hopes of keeping my sanity, I have decided to just upload it. I'm hoping that things will get easier by the next chapter. **


	27. Christmas

**Disclaimer:** **All that you recognise belongs to JKR. **

**A/N: Thank you all for your very encouraging reviews. It was nice to know that even with my writer's block you could still get some enjoyment from the chapter.**

**Christmas**

Dinner had started of just as normally as it did every other night. They asked each other about their day, Ginny grumbled half-heartedly about the food, and Draco watched with a wary eye to see if the vanishing bucket would need to be brought out again. His wife was still having difficulties keeping her meals down, it seemed.

As it was, the horribly off-putting food was nothing to Ginny in that moment. Indeed, her narrowed eyes, rigid back and heavy breathing had no relation to the dinner at all. It was her husband's thoughtless comment that had set her hackles rising, and it seemed that tonight she was in no mood to be trifled with.

"You did what?" Ginny snapped, slamming her knife and fork down with an ominous clatter on the table.

"I told your father that we wouldn't be having Christmas with him," Draco repeated, glancing up from his plate to meet her accusing glower with an innocent expression.

"I know what you said, idiot. I just can't believe you actually said it."

Draco stiffened. "I'm sorry, was I supposed to say something different? I thought we agreed that we would be having Christmas with my family?"

"No, _you_ just decided yourself that we would be having Christmas with your family. You didn't even ask _my_ opinion. Not that you ever do ask for my opinion," she added peevishly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Here we go again."

"What was that?" demanded Ginny, now eyeing him through beady eyes.

"Nothing."

Ginny continued to glare at him. When it appeared that Draco had nothing further to say to her, she let out a huff and folded her arms, a mutinous expression coming to her face.

"Well I've decided that I don't want to have Christmas with your family," she announced. "I think we should have our first Christmas with _my_ family."

"Mother is already expecting us."

"Well then you can just tell her that we can't make it."

"You know very well I can't do that."

"Why not? If you can decide that we're not having Christmas with my family, then why can't I decide we're not having Christmas with yours? It's essentially the same thing."

"Ginevra," said Draco in a warning tone. "Would you stop making everything more difficult than what it already is?"

"If I'm being difficult then it's your fault. You should have thought of that before you decided to make decisions without consulting me."

"And now we're back at that again, are we?" sighed her husband, giving her an exasperated look.

"Yes, we're back at that again! You should have asked me what I wanted to do before saying anything to either of our parents!"

"I wasn't stopping you from saying anything. You were right there when we were discussing Christmas. I naturally assumed your silence was an agreement that we would be having Christmas at Malfoy Manor."

"Of course you'd assume that. You'd assume anything if it was convenient for you to do so."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't give me that innocent act. I know you hate my family. Of course you would do anything to get out of having Christmas with them."

"I don't hate your family."

Her eyebrow rose. "I'm not stupid, Draco. Nor am I blind."

"Well if it comes to that, why are you so against having Christmas with my family?"

"Because I want to have Christmas with _my_ family!" Ginny retorted.

"And I want to have Christmas with _my_ family."

They glared at each other.

Ginny's eyes started to sting, and though she desperately wanted to keep up the glaring contest, the urge to blink overwhelmed her and her eyelids fluttered shut. She snapped them open again, greeting her husband's triumphant expression, and let out an irritable huff.

"You can sit there as smug as you like," she retorted waspishly, "but it doesn't change anything. We're having Christmas with my family and that's that."

"Two can be stubborn, love. I'm not budging."

"Fine."

"Fine," he echoed, smirking now.

Ginny scowled and glared daggers at him. Draco merely continued to smirk.

She hated when he did this. Every time they had an argument he would sit there like a smug king on his throne, knowing that no matter what happened he would eventually get his way. The annoying thing, of course, was that he usually did.

Still keeping her eyes locked with his, she stabbed her sausage viciously and ripped into it with her teeth. Draco's eyes gleamed with amusement at her innuendo, and much in the manner of one taunting the bull, said teasingly, "Enjoying your sausage, are you?"

Ginny choked, started coughing, and after a moment of struggling to regain control, finally managed to glare at him.

"The glare is wonderful, but I'm afraid the rest of your performance spoiled the effect," observed Draco, mock solemn. "Would you like to try again?"

His wife made a noise halfway between a scream and a snort.

"Are you trying to drive me crazy?" she demanded.

"Not at all. It's not my problem you like to overreact."

"Oh, of course it's all my fault, right? It's always _my_ fault."

"You said it."

He was definitely amused now. Ginny, on the other hand, was close to boiling point.

She clenched her hands into fists, sucked in a deep breath, counted to ten, and finding that these calming rituals were not working, stood up abruptly from her seat.

"I've decided I'm not hungry. Enjoy your meal."

"Ginny," Draco began in a much more soothing voice, but she just ignored him and stormed out of the room.

When she got to their room, she collapsed on the bed with a dramatic sigh and glared up at the roof.

Draco could be such a jerk sometimes. Sure she loved him, but sometimes, like now, she felt like taking a pin and forcing it into his over-inflated, smirking head.

She couldn't believe him. How could he think she wouldn't be upset upon finding out that he expected her to only have Christmas with his family? It wasn't fair at all and she'd be damned if she let him boss her around like this. She didn't care if pureblood tradition suggested the male should always rule; she was no passive trophy wife.

"Stupid Draco," grumbled Ginny, a scowl firmly fixed on her lips.

It was just like him to dictate everything; just as it was frustratingly like him to laugh at her when she tried to reason (or rant, might be the better word) with him. He always ended up twisting the argument around so that she looked ridiculous and he ended up looking like the smug git she had used to call him back at Hogwarts.

Things, it seemed, had not changed so much after all.

"Well I'm not giving in," declared Ginny to the room at large. "This time I'm making sure I get my way."

But first, she decided with a tremulous lip, she would indulge in a hearty bout of tears.

**OOOOO**

Several hours had passed. Ginny had decided to lock herself in the room with another predictable romance book to avoid Draco in the hopes of getting the point across that she was not happy with him. In reality she was just sulking, but she liked to see it as making a stand against male dominance.

She would have been more upset had she known that her efforts were completely wasted. Draco had not once tried to open the door, preferring to wait until she had calmed down before he proceeded to use his skills of persuasion on her, and had spent his evening being entertained by a book of his own— though, one less predictable and romantic, of course.

Thus, it was not until she was getting ready for bed that she saw her husband again.

She was sitting in front of the mirror, absently brushing her hair, when he walked into the room. Her eyes caught his through the reflection, and cursing herself for forgetting to lock the door again—for she had had all the intention of making him sleep in one of the spare bedrooms—she promptly turned her attention back to her own reflection.

The message was clear. She was not happy, and he was not welcome.

Draco paused for a moment, his watchful eyes taking in her tense shoulders and clenched jaw, and then slowly, purposefully, he walked towards her. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he leaned down and planted a small kiss on the hypersensitive skin just behind her ear.

"Still angry with me, love?" he murmured from behind her, his warm breath brushing against her skin in delicate strokes.

She almost shivered with pleasure, her eyes closing briefly. Then she remembered why she was angry with him and her fingers clenched tightly around her hairbrush.

"That's not going to work," she declared coldly.

He chuckled, meeting her glare through the mirror with his own eyes alight with mischief. "Who says I'm trying to do anything?"

"I know what you're like."

"Do you?"

Ginny stood up from the chair, hoping to put herself a safe distance from his seductive presence. He knew her weakness all too well and she wasn't going to give him an easy victory this time.

"I'm not playing your games, Draco."

"What? Can't a man talk to his wife now?"

"You don't want to talk," retorted Ginny peevishly. "I know what you're trying to do."

His eyes glinted with wicked amusement. "And what would that be, my wife?"

She just scowled and made her way over to the bed. He chuckled again, this time more to himself, and was still smiling to himself as he started to get undressed. Ginny clambered in under the covers and glared owlishly up at him, refusing to let herself get distracted by his body.

It proved rather hard.

Draco threw a glance her way, the smallest of smirks playing on his lips as he unbuttoned his shirt with deliberate slowness. Her eyes flickered to his exposed chest and then back to his face, her tongue moistening her lips without her even realising it.

He undid the rest of the buttons and shrugged out of the shirt. She let out a breath, watching the soft material drop from his fingers to the floor so that he was bare-chested. In her mind she could already see herself running her hands along his body, feeling the toned muscle he kept so secretive under all those clothes of his.

Damn him. Damn him. Damn him. She was supposed to be angry with him, not drooling over him.

His hands went to his pants, and then he was staring directly at her, one eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips. "Care to give me a hand?"

Ginny bit down on her bottom lip, frustration and longing burning in her eyes as she fought against the instinct to ravish the man before her like she so wanted to do.

It wasn't fair. She had always had an unhealthy appetite for her husband, but since becoming pregnant it had become an unbearable desire that was impossible to control. All of her emotions seemed so extreme now.

"I'm sure you can take your clothes off yourself," she replied with admirable control. "It's not like you're three and need your mummy to help you."

"You're right," he agreed, and promptly let his pants drop to the floor so that he was standing in only his socks.

Ginny bit down on her lip again, this time to stop herself from laughing.

"You look ridiculous," she observed, lips twitching.

Draco placed a hand on his hip. "Ridiculous? You're supposed to be swooning in ecstasy at my male physique right now."

Ginny couldn't help it. She burst out laughing.

"I find your laughter highly offensive, I hope you know," he commented with feigned indignation. His expression suddenly scrunched up in distaste, and then he was quickly getting dressed into his pyjamas.

"What's the matter?" asked Ginny, finally sobering.

"It's bloody freezing," he admitted, pulling a loose shirt over his head.

She snickered and pulled back the covers for him. He clambered in the bed, his eyes meeting hers with a small smile as he rested his head on the pillow beside her. For a moment they just stared at each other, and then he leaned forward and placed his lips gently against hers.

Ginny smiled into the kiss, shuffling closer so that her body was pressed up against his. His arms surrounded her, enveloping her in a warm embrace, and once again she found her mind floating away into that dreamy state as he deepened the kiss.

She pulled her lips away, meeting his eyes with a small smile. "Don't think this means I've forgiven you. I still want to have Christmas with my family."

"I've been thinking about that."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "Why don't we have Christmas with both our families?"

Ginny blinked. "You mean together? I don't know if your dad will—"

"No," he interposed, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "Not together. I'm meaning we have breakfast with your family and dinner with mine."

Ginny just stared at him. She could have almost hexed herself for not realising this solution sooner. Of course they could just have Christmas with both families. It really was as simple as that.

"That's perfect!" she exclaimed, smiling fully now. "I can't believe I didn't think of that before."

"Of course it's perfect. _I_ thought of it."

She laughed and swiped him playfully on the arm. "Git."

He smirked and rolled on top of her, trapping her underneath him. "Now is that any way to talk to your husband?"

"Why?" she replied, moving her thigh up against his body with a suggestive smile curling her lips. "Planning on punishing me?"

"Maybe."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"With the most horrendous punishment of all."

"Which is?"

His mouth twitched up into a smile, there was a pause, and then Ginny let out a small gasp.

"Oh."

"'_Oh_' indeed," he echoed, and pulled the covers up over their heads.

**OOOO**

"Have you got the presents?" Ginny called out as she fumbled with her coat buttons from the cold.

"Yes, I've got the presents," replied her husband, walking down the stairs with a serviceable bag clutched in his hand.

Ginny stared at him and had to stifle a giggle. "You're not seriously going to wear that, are you?"

Draco looked down at his nicely tailored clothes. "What's wrong with them?"

"You're going to stand out like a sore thumb if you wear those, that's all. This isn't high society we're going to."

She herself was wearing old jeans and a woollen turtleneck.

"Fine," grumbled her husband, heading back up the stairs to get changed. Ten minutes later he was back in front of her, now wearing casual khakis and a grey sweater that made his eyes stand out spectacularly.

"You look good," complimented Ginny.

Draco only rolled his eyes, gripped her hand, and together they disapparated with a small pop.

It was Christmas day, and, as they had both agreed, the first stop on their agenda was the burrow. Ginny was bubbling with excitement, just happy knowing that she was going to see all her family again; Draco, on the other hand, was hoping that time would go very quickly.

Having brunch with the whole Weasley crew was not his idea of fun.

They apparated outside the teetering house and made their way up to the front porch. Ginny hadn't even managed to knock on the door before it was being opened and she was being pulled into a tight hug.

"We're so glad you could make it," Molly was saying, transferring her over-embracing arms to Draco. "We had almost given up on you."

Not even giving them a chance to say anything, Mrs Weasley ushered them inside and closed the door behind them to shut out the cold, all the while babbling away about how wonderful it was to have all the family together. Draco found himself thrust inside the lounge by a kindly, but firm, hand on his back, where a sea of redheads greeted his vision. The two identical ones, whom he vaguely remembered were named Fred and George, cracked matching evil grins that promised much humiliation on his behalf.

He swallowed and resisted the impulse to grip his wife's hand.

"Ginny, Draco," greeted Arthur, smiling in a friendly way at the both of them, "Good to see you could join us."

"Yes, Ginny," said one of the identical redheads. "Good to see you could join us."

"And your ever-so-estimable husband," added the other, giving another evil grin at Draco.

"Now boys, I don't want any of you getting up to your mischief," threatened Molly. "Draco is just as much a part of the family as any of you. I except you to treat him with the same respect you treat your sister-in-law."

Draco glanced around and noticed a very pretty blonde woman smiling at him, whom he recognised instantly as Fleur Delacour (now Weasley). He'd almost forgotten she'd married the eldest brother, Bill.

Well, he thought to himself, at least he wasn't completely alone in this Weasley sanctum.

That was when he noticed that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were also seated in the room.

Fantastic. It seemed the whole crew really were here—even the tags.

"Sit down," muttered Ginny, giving his arm a tug.

Draco sat down next to her, still keeping a wary eye on the collection of people assembled. He had already met most of them at the wedding, of course, but that had been in his domain. Now he was the outnumbered one, and if all of her brothers were as friendly as Ronald, then he was sure he was about to have a positively thrilling Christmas.

Having Potter and Granger here too was just the icing on the cake.

"Isn't this nice?" Molly beamed.

Draco tried hard not to roll his eyes. Nice certainly wasn't the adjective he would use. Most of the people in the room were staring at him like he was a particularly interesting specimen, or one of those grotesque jars of Merlin-knew-what that had graced the shelves of his Head of House's office at Hogwarts. Some of the Weasley brothers even looked like they wanted to dissect him.

Thankfully, this ambition was not achieved. A chance comment made by Bill Weasley caused the attention to shift from the novelty of having a Malfoy in the house to the more mundane (though some would argue infinitely important) matters of what they were going to have to eat.

Molly's enthusiasm was roused, and after a detailed description of the mountain of pancakes with fresh berries and cream she had prepared, the bacon, omelette, fruit platters, toast, and almost every other breakfast favourite he could think of, even Draco was salivating at the mouth at the thought of getting a taste of this lavish array of food.

By the time they were all seated around the table, all that were assembled had silently agreed to put their animosity aside at least for the duration of the meal. One couldn't enjoy good food when one was busy thinking bitter thoughts, after all, and if there was one thing about Weasleys, it was that they certainly cared about their food.

Still, Draco couldn't help but feel somewhat glad that he had not been placed too close to Ronald and the twins. He could have done without sitting next to Granger, though. It was all just a little awkward.

"So, Malfoy," the bushy-haired witch said, turning slightly in her chair to face him more. "How are you enjoying your first Weasley Christmas?"

Draco glanced at her briefly and then flicked his gaze towards his wife to see if she would save him from a probably awkward and tedious conversation, but Ginny, treacherous wench that she was, had started talking animatedly with one of her brothers, whom he assumed was Charlie, judging by the shiny scars he could see speckled all over the man's already very freckly skin.

It seemed he would have to grin and bear this conversation.

"It's very, ah, illuminating," Draco responded with forced politeness, though not quite unable to hide the faint disgust in his tone. It was impossible that such a person as he, who had impeccable table manners, could enjoy watching people fighting to be heard over each other's loud voices as they stuffed food in their mouths.

Hermione laughed lightly. "I know what you mean. You get used to it, though."

Draco just stared at her. Was she actually trying to be _friendly_?

"It's been a long time since we've talked, hasn't it?" Hermione continued, trying to draw him out of his shell.

"I wouldn't say we ever really talked, Granger."

Their conversations had usually consisted of insults on both sides.

She laughed again. "No, I don't suppose we have. Well, that's no reason not to start now, right?"

Again, Draco just stared at her.

A smile curled her lips. "Don't worry, Malfoy, I'm not expecting you to be buddy-buddy with me. I just figured that we should at least try to be civil to each other. You are Ginny's husband, after all, and she is my friend."

"Did she set you up to this?" he demanded suspiciously.

"Maybe," admitted Hermione with another smile. "Can you blame her, though? We're all from such different worlds. I think it upsets her that you're so distant from what she knows."

His brow furrowed. "Did she say that?"

"Not exactly in those words, but that is essentially what she was trying to get across."

Draco sighed and glanced around the table at the many smiling and laughing faces. It was true. He never bothered to talk to her family and friends, and he certainly had seized on every feeble excuse to escape the dinners and lunches they had invited him to.

But really, he thought in his defence, how could anyone blame him? One had to just look at them to realise how impossible it was for him to enjoy their company. Besides, it wasn't as if they had been particularly welcoming to him either—well, except Molly, of course, but she was a little _too_ welcoming.

"I don't know what she's expecting of me," he grumbled, quite forgetting that this was Hermione Granger he was talking to. "I'm here, aren't I? Shouldn't that be enough?"

"Think about it, Malfoy. How would you feel if Ginny refused to visit your family and friends with you and didn't bother to try and get to know any of them? Wouldn't you be just a little disappointed that the person you loved was making no effort to understand the people most important to you?"

"It's not—"

"Not the same?" interposed Hermione. "Why? Because your friends and family are a part of Pureblood society? Because they're superior and don't associate with people like me?

Draco rolled his eyes. "There's no need to get so self-righteous, Granger. I'm well aware you think I'm a bigot, but being the know-it-all that I'm sure you still are, you must have realised that if I really felt that way I would not be talking to you right now."

Hermione raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Then what's the problem?"

"I don't have to answer to you, Granger," he retorted, irritated now. "You're not my wife."

"I wouldn't want to be, Malfoy. I'm just pointing out that your behaviour is upsetting Ginny. She wants you to share in her world too, and if you can't see that then you're more selfish than I thought."

"So what, she wants me to invite her brothers out so we can spend some quality time together and gain an understanding?" Draco snorted. "Oh yeah, I'm sure that'll go down well."

"I'm sure Ginny doesn't expect you to do that. You could at least try talking to them more, though. I hardly think it would hurt you to do that."

Draco said nothing. He was too busy trying to ignore the niggling feelings of guilt that whispered she might have a point.

Scowling, he took a sip of his drink, still trying to block the little voices now bothering his conscience.

It was at this inopportune moment that Fred Weasley decided to observe very loudly how amazed he was to see a male drink orange juice so delicately. He would never have thought it possible until he saw his sister's husband take such a dainty sip.

"That is because you have the manners of a pig," retorted Fleur bluntly. "Monsieur Malfoy merely has the elegance of one who has been taught good etiquette. You, Frederick, could take a leaf from his book. It would do you much good."

"That's you told," remarked George, sniggering.

Fleur smiled at Draco. "I am glad to have you here, Draco. It is very frustrating being the only outsider. You and I shall make a stand together against these Weasleys we have married into, yes?"

Draco couldn't help but smile back. He wasn't sure if it was an effect of her veela magic or not, but Fleur just had a way of charming people.

"Malfoy knows I mean him no harm," said Fred, "Don't you, Malfoy?"

"I think he'd know you meant him less harm if you stopped staring at him like you were going to sneak him a canary cream," cut in Bill, giving a warning look at his younger brother. He turned to Draco and gave him a friendly smile. "Don't mind these idiots, Draco. We're not all like them. You're perfectly welcome here."

"Yes," added George, "Perfectly welcome here."

"And your perfect manners too," finished Fred with an innocent smile.

Ron merely sniggered.

"Well I for one find this conversation rather tedious," declared Percy in a pompous voice. "There are much better things to talk about. Now the Minister was saying only yesterday—"

But whatever it was the Minister had been saying nobody heard. They had all switched off, including his parents.

Ginny smiled at Draco. "Don't mind my brothers. They'll get used to you. Fleur had the same thing."

Hermione laughed slightly. "Wasn't it you who nicknamed her _phlegm_, Ginny?"

Ginny had the grace to blush. "Yes, well that was before I knew her."

"I suppose I should be thanking Merlin I haven't been graced with such a nickname," remarked her husband dryly.

"Yeah…"

Draco frowned. "I have a nickname, don't I?"

Ginny nodded.

He sighed. "Very well, what have your brothers christened me?"

"Smellfoy."

"_Smellfoy_?" Draco gave an inelegant snort. "Well that's original. Can't say it's very witty, though"

Ginny shrugged. "It was Ron who came up with it."

"Figures."

"Anyway, I wouldn't let it worry you. My parents like you, and Bill, Charlie and Fleur seem to like you. Percy is too absorbed in his career to really care either way, and Fred and George tease everyone, so that's nothing new."

"And Ron is Ron; I know," finished her husband.

"Right." She looked up at him a little hesitantly. "You are enjoying yourself, right?"

He met her hopeful gaze, remembering that Hermione had said Ginny wanted him to share in her world. It seemed that Granger was right once again. He now had a choice. He could choose to keep following his own selfish path, or he could get off his high-horse and try accept her family more, even if it were only to keep Ginny happy.

With that thought came his answer. He smiled and closed his fingers around her hand under the table. "Yes, Ginny. I'm enjoying myself."

Ginny squeezed his hand. "I'm glad."

Draco could see Hermione smiling with approval at him, and though he had never cared about her opinion before, for the first time he actually felt pleased that he had done something good in her eyes.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all?

**OOOO **

Once breakfast had been cleared away, the men retired to the lounge while the women assembled in the kitchen to do the dishes. Fleur made a fuss about how sexist all the men were in expecting only the women to do the cleaning, but, as Bill pointed out once the females were safely out of earshot, everyone knew that they secretly enjoyed the chance to gossip and moan about the men.

Draco had to laugh at that, having had very similar experiences with Ginny when she got in her feminist mode, and spent a few good minutes discussing the woes of marriage with his brother-in-law, whom he was fast warming up to. The twins soon snagged their brother's attention, and not feeling quite up to the task of facing the evil duo just yet, Draco decided to shift to a 'twin free' spot in the room and found himself face-to-face with Harry Potter.

"Potter," he said mechanically.

"Malfoy," Harry greeted.

For a moment they just stared at each other, and then Harry's lips twitched up into a small smile.

"So…you and Ginny, huh? I wouldn't have believed it."

"You're not the only one."

"I hear she's pregnant."

Draco nodded.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

It was odd to thank the man who had once been his rival, but then most things were odd to Draco now. He doubted his sixteen-year-old self would have imagined that one day he would be spending Christmas at the Weasleys.

He caught a glimpse of Ron's horrified face and allowed a small smile to creep into his expression. "I believe your friend is unhappy that you're talking to me."

Harry turned his head and caught his friend's eye. He sighed and turned back to Draco. "Ron is…Well, I think it will take him some time to adjust to the fact that you've married his sister. He still hates you."

"And you don't?"

Draco was genuinely curious. It wasn't as if he had been very nice to any of them during their school days, least of all Harry himself. He was not _that_ proud that he could not admit that he probably didn't deserve their respect or their forgiveness after all he had said and done to them.

Harry gave a wry smile. "I think we're a bit past school grudges, don't you? If Ginny is happy with you then I figure you can't be all that bad. I'm willing to give you a chance if you'll let me."

"I'm flattered," responded Draco with an ironic display of politeness.

"Yeah, yeah, I know you're not the type for hallmark moments. Don't worry, I'm not going to start turning up at your doorstep every day, or expect you to greet me with a secret handshake."

"You have a secret handshake?" asked Draco, momentarily diverted.

Harry chuckled. "No. Why, do you?"

Draco merely raised his eyebrow. "Do I look like the kind of person who would indulge in secret handshakes?"

"You never know…"

"Well I don't. I couldn't think of anything more ridiculous."

Ginny came out of the kitchen in that moment and greeted them both with a smile. "What are we talking about?"

"Secret handshakes," responded her husband dryly.

Ginny blinked. "I see."

A burst of laughter diverted their attention, and all three turned to see Percy, looking very red around the ears, glaring at Fred and George, who were both doubled up in laughter.

"They never give it a rest," sighed Ginny. "Poor Percy. He's always being teased by them."

Draco stared at the red-faced Percy with little sympathy. He remembered all too well the many times he had had his plans thwarted by the pompous prefect during their Hogwarts days, and found him just as boring and annoying as the twins did.

"Looks like we're opening presents now," observed Harry, gesturing to where everyone was gathering around the tree.

Ginny grabbed Draco's hand and dragged him over, pulling him down with her on the seat. Everyone else took their positions, and soon Arthur was dishing out presents.

It seemed that most of the Weasleys had not known what to get Draco, and so had decided to take the safer option of buying 'family' gifts for the newly wedded Malfoys. Draco politely thanked them for each gift, while Ginny, always the more informal, gave them hugs.

That was when Molly handed him a rather lumpy looking package, a broad smile on her face. "Here you are, dear," she said cheerfully, "This one's just for you from me."

Draco accepted it with a tight smile and started unwrapping the present. Something soft and of a deep grey peeped out from underneath the tacky paper. His brow creased slightly, and then he slowly held up what was seen to be a knitted jumper.

There was a collective snigger, and one of the brothers—Draco wasn't sure which—muttered with a trembling voice, "Mum's knitted him a Weasley jumper."

Molly smiled fondly at him. "I thought the colour would bring out your eyes."

"Thank you, Mrs Weasley," said Draco, forcing a smile. "It looks very…warm."

Molly beamed in reply and bustled off to hand out more of her knitted jumpers. Soon everyone gathered was clutching his or her lumpy jumper, Ginny clutching an orangey-brown one—as was the tradition (and mortification) that her mother had knitted for her every year.

Draco leaned in towards his wife, murmuring under his breath, "Does your mother do this every year?"

"Unfortunately," sighed Ginny. "It's become a sort of tradition in our family." Her eyes took in his thick, grey, woollen jumper. "Well, she seems to have made some effort with yours. You might actually be able to wear that one."

"How lucky for me."

Ginny smiled slightly. "You know what this means, don't you?"

"What?"

"You've been accepted into the family."

Draco glanced around the room at the people gathered, seeing them all wearing their knitted jumpers, and couldn't help but smile—albeit a little wryly.

Who would have thought a knitted jumper would be the symbol of his acceptance?

**OOOO**

The day continued as it only could. Draco was roped into playing a short game of quidditch with the Weasleys, and for the first time in his life he actually caught the snitch before Harry Potter.

Needless to say, he was in a very good mood after that. Ron, of course, decided that Draco must have cheated (he having been on the losing team) but no one much paid attention to him. There was nothing like a game of quidditch to bond people together, after all.

When Ginny finally found her husband to tell him it was time to go, he was chatting quite at his ease with Fleur in French. Judging by the frequent laughter the two shared, they were quite enjoying themselves.

For a moment Ginny felt a flare of jealousy (not being able to speak a word of French herself) but then she reminded herself that Fleur would hardly try stealing her husband, and that more than likely they were just sharing reminisces about shared acquaintances—as both knew French society very well.

"Ah, I see Ginny is here to spirit you away," observed Fleur, smiling at her approaching sister-in-law. "I believe this is time for us to say _au revoir_, _mon cher_."

"But of course," responded Ginny. "I can't have you hogging my husband all to yourself." She turned to Draco. "We should probably head off now, don't you think? We're due at your parents' house in half an hour."

"Right." Draco nodded to Fleur. "I'll ask Tante about Elisabeth."

Fleur nodded. "Thank you."

She smiled at the both of them and then headed back towards the rest of the group, silvery blonde hair fanning lightly in a nonexistent wind.

"Come on, you," sighed Ginny, gripping his arm. "I think you've spent too long around my sister-in-law. Your chin is dragging on the ground."

Draco shrugged unapologetically. "Can't help it."

"I know," grumbled Ginny.

She'd already witnessed Fleur's charm over her brothers and Harry. There was no reason why Draco would be exempt from it.

"Jealous?" he smirked.

"Hardly," retorted his wife unconvincingly.

Draco smiled but said nothing.

They made their goodbyes to the rest of the family and then took their leave. Once back at their own home, both got changed into more formal attire and then headed off to Malfoy Manor. It was time for Christmas dinner with the Malfoys.

"Here we go again," mumbled Ginny.

"Tired?"

"A little," she sighed.

"We won't stay long."

She smiled gratefully up at him, and then he opened the door to the sitting room and led her inside.

The room looked just the same as it always did, except tonight there were two new additions to the party. Ginny recognised Abraxias Malfoy immediately, remembering his weedy frame, colourless eyes, and jovial ways well. His wife she had never met, but seeing the tall, very beautiful, blonde woman smiling warmly at her, she felt her misgivings fade. This woman could not have been any more different from her daughter.

"_Voyons_, _mon enfant_," exclaimed the blonde woman. "You grow more handsome every time I see you." She swooped down upon Draco and kissed him on both cheeks, and then turned her attention to Ginny. "And you must be Ginevra?"

Not waiting for an answer, she proceeded to kiss Ginny on both cheeks and then once again flashed her dazzling smile. "I am very happy to make your acquaintance. I did not get a chance to speak with you at the wedding. My name is Desiree, but you can just call me Tante. We are family now, after all."

Feeling quite overwhelmed by all this affection, Ginny only mumbled something barely intelligible and gave a shy smile at the woman before her.

Desiree smiled and took Ginny's hand in a maternal grasp. "You shall tell me all about yourself, _ma fille_. I am quite curious to know what made my nephew choose you."

Leading Ginny to a cosy corner in the room, Desiree proceeded to interrogate her with many warm smiles and tinkling laughs. Ginny soon discovered that Armande's mother was not much unlike himself. She loved to know everything, and had the same mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Desiree seems taken with your little wife," observed Abraxias, coming to stand beside Draco.

"So it would seem."

"A month pregnant, isn't she?"

"Yes."

"That was certainly quick."

"Disappointed?" responded Draco, quirking an eyebrow.

Abraxias laughed. "Aye, you're the spitting image of your father when you do that. You're going to be the plague of all your children if you carry on in that way, my boy."

"I'm sure they'll survive."

"O-ho. Dry as a desert, your humour is. I feel sorry for your wife."

Draco said nothing.

"Well, despite what you might think," continued his uncle in his usual jovial way, "I'm very happy to hear that you're going to be a father. It'll be the making of you, my boy. Fatherhood changes everything. Makes you think about things more."

"Oh?"

"Just look at me. Packed off to France when I was twenty-four, in disgrace with the family, and then I met Desiree and had Alexia and everything changed."

"Father doesn't think so."

"He wouldn't. Cissy tells me he still thinks I'm planning to kill him."

"Well," responded Draco dryly, "You did try to poison him."

Abraxias shrugged. "I didn't succeed, so what's the point in holding grudges? I can assure you, I've quite given up in trying to claim the inheritance. It would be very impractical to kill my brother, Narcissa, yourself, and your dear little wife. People would automatically assume I did it to get the inheritance."

"That's comforting."

"Bah, you're as bad as old Lucy. Keep your grudges if you like, but I mean no harm. I'm just here to collect that rascal of mine and enjoy Christmas with my family. Speaking of Armande, I hear you've been keeping him in check while he's been here."

"Someone had to keep an eye on him."

"Aye, the boy takes after his mother in that way. There's no knowing what they're going to do next." He flicked his gaze to his daughter and gave a small frown. "I'm disappointed Alexia didn't find someone who took her fancy, though. I wouldn't have her marry any of the Frenchies. Bad _ton_, the lot of them."

"I'm sure she'll find someone," responded Draco disinterestedly.

Even if he and Alexia had finally made up after their quarrel, he still couldn't care less whom she decided to marry.

"I suppose," frowned his uncle.

Narcissa then announced that dinner was ready. The collection of Malfoys all made their way to the grand dining hall, taking their places around the table, with Lucius at the head and Narcissa at the foot. Ginny found herself seated in between Draco and Armande, with Abraxias Malfoy opposite her. Desiree sat next to her husband, with Alexia on his other side.

The dinner could not have been any more different to the breakfast Draco and Ginny had shared with the Weasleys that morning. There was no vying to be heard over other people, no food being gobbled up as if it were about to disappear in seconds. Everything was acted out in perfect accordance to the code of manners. Even Armande and Abraxias, who seemed to put little store on decorum, were still controlled enough not to get too carried away.

After dinner, and after the presents had all been exchanged and opened, Desiree and Narcissa kept a polite flow of conversation going for the benefit of everyone gathered, but Ginny could tell that their real aim was to get their husbands speaking civilly to one another. It was unfortunate that both men seemed more intent on annoying the other.

"Are they always like this?" asked Ginny, watching the two older men taunting each other in very opposite ways. Lucius was very collected and sarcastic, while Abraxias was just blunt and plain cheeky.

Armande sniggered. "Are you kidding? This is the most polite they've been to each other in years."

"My father usually just locks the gates on uncle when he comes to visit," explained Draco, giving a small smile. "They haven't spoken to each other in a while, though Tante keeps uncle up to date with what is happening."

"Just as Aunt Cissy keeps Uncle Lucius up to date with our happenings."

"It all seems very petty," observed Ginny.

"That's Malfoys for you," chuckled Armande. "Always holding grudges."

"_Please_, you can see they enjoy it," drawled Alexia, also watching the older men. "I doubt they even know how to show affection to each other beyond taunting."

"Kind of like you, Lexy," grinned Armande.

"Shut up, brat," retorted his sister.

Draco and Ginny exchanged amused glances.

The two siblings continued to squabble, only stopping when their aunt announced that they were giving her a headache. Ginny was snuggled up in Draco's arms by this point, looking very tired and quite ready to go home.

Draco seemed to sense her feelings, for his arms tightened around her, and he hauled them both to their feet. "I think we're going to head off now, Mother. Ginny's tired."

"You're leaving already?" exclaimed Abraxias, quite surprised.

Draco nodded.

"Well, it was lovely meeting you, _ma chère_," interposed Desiree, smiling warmly at Ginny. "You must come visit us in Paris when you are able."

"I'd like that," said Ginny, unable to help smiling back at the older woman.

Armande walked towards her grinning. "I guess this is goodbye for now, then. I'll be leaving with my parents later tonight."

"Oh, you're going?" she exclaimed, feeling her spirits sink a little.

He nodded and gave his trademark cheeky grin. "Why? Going to miss me?"

"Of course I will, you dolt," retorted Ginny, pulling him into a crushing hug. "Why didn't you tell me sooner that you were leaving?"

"Woah, I'm not dying, Ginny," exclaimed Armande, laughing slightly as he returned her hug. "I'll still come visit."

"You'd better," she threatened, releasing her hold on him. "I can't have my child being born without his godfather present."

Armande blinked. "Godfather? Me?"

"Why not? Draco and I agreed it would be fitting."

"Is this true, Draco?"

"Don't give him a bighead, Ginny," responded Draco, smiling. "He's already stuffed himself full of notions from that hug you gave him."

Armande laughed. "Look who's talking."

Draco's expression softened into a smile. "We'll come visit you soon. In the mean time, I expect you to _try_ not to get up to your mischief again. You know Tante doesn't like it."

"Sure, sure, I'll be the paragon of respectability, you'll see. Got to learn to be a good example for my godson, right?"

"Right," chuckled his cousin.

Ginny gave Armande another hug, whispered a fierce goodbye, and then stepped back to take her place beside her husband. They took their leave of the rest of the Malfoys, now carrying the many presents they had been given, and disapparated back to their home.

"That was nice," commented Ginny, snuggling up next to Draco by the fire.

"Mhm," he agreed, pulling his wand out and summoning a small box from a drawer.

"What's this?" she asked, turning to look up at him with a quizzical look.

"Open it."

Ginny lifted the lid from the box and felt her jaw drop. Inside was the most beautiful diamond ring she had ever beheld in her life. It wasn't large, being more elegant and simple with its single stone, but it was exactly the kind of ring she admired.

"I never got to get you an engagement ring," Draco explained, "So I decided to give it to you now. It's a bit late, but—"

"It's beautiful!" Ginny exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "Thank you."

He chuckled slightly. "You're welcome."

Ginny pulled herself away and stood up from the couch. "I have something for you too."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "Wait here."

Draco watched her go, wondering what she could have got him, and then she was back again, now clutching a wrapped package in her hands.

"Here," she said, shyly handing him the package.

He smiled up at her and took the present from her hands, opening it carefully so as not to rip the paper in an indecently eager way. Ginny watched him anxiously, obviously on tenterhooks in wondering whether he would like it or not.

Draco was quiet when he saw what was inside the package. It was a portrait of him, obviously hand drawn, for the picture did not move like it normally would when charmed, but the skill was unmistakable. Whoever had drawn this was very talented.

"Ginny, this is…"

"What?" she said nervously. "Don't you like it?"

"No, I"— he glanced up at her in wonder — "Ginny, did you draw this yourself?"

She nodded, twisting her hands in her skirts. "I didn't know what to get you so I just decided to make something myself. This was all I could come up with."

He smiled. "It's perfect. Thank you."

A smile spread across her lips. "You really like it?"

"Yes."

"Good," she breathed out in relief. "I was so worried you would think it was weird or really corny."

He laughed at that. "Hardly. How many people can claim to have a portrait painted of them by their wife?"

She shrugged. "I don't know… You're not just saying this to make me feel better, are you?"

"Ginny, you adorable fool," he chuckled, pulling her down next to him and trapping her within his arms. "Stop fretting. I like the present."

She opened her mouth to retort but he silenced her with a kiss, holding her close to him a while longer before he gently pulled his lips away.

"Merry Christmas, Ginny."

"Merry Christmas, Draco," she echoed, smiling, and snuggled back up against him.

**A/N: Eh…not sure if that was too much cheese at the end, but meh, I was in a fluffy mood, so you'll just have to deal. :P**

**I'm still struggling with my writer's block, but there's only about two or three chapters to go of this story, so it shouldn't be too bad. **

**Many thanks to Leigh for giving me the inspiration for Draco's Weasley jumper; I would not have thought of it without your wonderful sentence in the OSS. I also apologise for any typos, etc. I've been sadly scatter-brained lately.**


	28. Good News and Bad News

**Disclaimer:** **All that you recognise belongs to JKR.**

**A/N: I know I said that there were two or three more chapters left, but after some thought I've decided to cut out the unnecessary filler material, so that leaves one more chapter to go. The next chapter will essentially be the closing/epilogue all in one.**

**Good News and Bad News **

Ginny stared at her reflection in the mirror with a conflicted expression on her face. In some ways she seemed pleased, but at the same time she seemed rather depressed. Her hand went to her swollen stomach, which was now visible enough to the point where she could no longer fit her old dresses, and a small sigh escaped her lips.

"Look what you're turning me into."

Her stomach was like one of those muggle air balloons filling up with hot air. It just kept growing and growing, and however much she may have gotten used to the idea of being pregnant, she was not so enthusiastic about the thought of getting fat.

Sighing again, she slipped on one of her new dresses (custom made to accommodate the ever-growing bump) and began half-heartedly doing up her hair. There seemed so little point in trying to be beautiful now. She was six months pregnant, and though she had not quite reached the waddling stage, there was no mistaking her situation.

"You look nice," came a voice from the doorway.

Ginny turned her gaze to meet her husband's appreciative eye through the mirror, a wry smile curling her lips. "Flattery will get you nowhere; didn't anyone ever tell you that?"

"Really?" responded Draco, walking forward and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Because I have it on good authority that flattery will get you anywhere." He leaned down and planted a small kiss on her cheek. "But I wasn't trying to flatter you, Ginny. You look beautiful."

She smiled in spite of herself and leaned back into his chest. "You always say that, but even _you_ can't deny I look ridiculous."

"I don't think you look ridiculous," he murmured, resting his chin on the top of her shoulder as he met her gaze through the mirror. His hands gently caressed her swollen stomach. "You're carrying our baby. There's nothing ridiculous in that."

"Pretty speech. You've gotten better."

"And I see you've gotten more sarcastic."

"Gee, I wonder why?"

Draco's lips twitched. "Stop being so grumpy, love. You're not fat, you're pregnant, and in less than three months you're going to be holding our newborn baby in your arms."

"Easy for you to say," she retorted. "You're not the one dealing with a parasite that comes with a lot of nasty side effects. I'd always known about the morning sickness, but nobody told me being pregnant went hand-in-hand with bad indigestion, backaches, sore hips, and—let's not forget my all-time-favourite—bladder problems. I had might as well start wearing a diaper myself."

He laughed. "Oh that's really attractive."

A dimple peeped out. "Well I'm sorry but it's true."

"I know." He smiled and turned her around to face him. "Believe me, I know."

And then he kissed her.

Ginny reluctantly pulled her lips away. "I'm not going to let you distract me tonight," she told him with a twinkle in her eyes. "It's Kitty's birthday and I promised her I would be at the party."

Draco sighed. "Must we really go?"

He had never liked Kitty, thinking her a fickle, stupid kind of girl, and had no desire to spend an evening celebrating her twentieth. His wife, it seemed, did not understand that.

"Yes," responded Ginny in a voice that left no room for argument. "Kitty just happens to be my good friend, and as it is her twentieth birthday, I think the least you can do is support her in coming with me tonight. I did go to Goyle's twenty-first, if you remember correctly."

"How could I forget? You've been throwing that back in my face all week."

"That's because you're being stupid. I don't know why you don't want to go. Theo will be there."

Draco laughed. "_Theo_? Oh sure, he'll be there pining in the corner for his flighty love, and then he'll get all upset and leave in a huff because she didn't smile at him or some such rubbish."

"He's in love, what do you expect?"

"He's acting like an idiot. It's been over six months and he _still_ hasn't told her that he loves her; instead he just sits there brooding and complaining that she flirts with all the men."

It was quite pathetic. Draco had always relied on Theo to be the sensible one of his friends, but as of late his friend had turned into something resembling a lovesick puppy. He couldn't stand it. It was damn humiliating watching a man he had come to respect languish after a girl that had a brain the size of a pea; and, as if that wasn't enough, his friend couldn't even tell the silly bint that he loved her.

Ginny sighed. "I know. I admit that I'm at a loss as to what Kitty might be doing. I can't believe she would be so heartless as to ignore poor Theo like that, but she's been quite coquettish towards him. Do you think he offended her in some way?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know; nor do I care. I've wasted enough time trying to play your silly games to match-make those two. If they can't get over themselves and see that they love each other then it has nothing to do with me."

"Trust you to say that," muttered Ginny, rolling her eyes. "You never did care."

"No, I didn't."

And nor would he ever, unless, of course, Theo decided to start acting like a real man again and not some ridiculous hero from a trashy romance novel.

"I just don't understand," continued Ginny, ignoring her husband now after his show of indifference. "I was so sure Kitty would fall for him, and for a while it seemed everything was going well, but now she's—"

"Acting like a tart?" supplied Draco.

"_Draco_!"

"What? You know it's true. She's got as bad as Daphne."

Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe not as bad as Daphne," Draco amended, "but you know what I mean. She's been flirting with every man who comes her way."

"But that's what I don't understand. She's always been a flirt, but never like this. It's almost as if she wants to set Theo's back up. She must know he doesn't like it."

Ginny just couldn't understand it. She loved Kitty, she truly did, but to see her friend treat Theo with such careless indifference was more than she could bear. She had tried to take Kitty to task for it before, but the girl had only tossed her head with an indifferent laugh and declared that Theo didn't own her, and nor could he dictate what she could or could not do.

And so the outrageous flirting had continued, and Theo, unfortunately, had only grown more moody.

Draco, not privy to these thoughts, merely snorted. "Then she's more of a featherhead than I thought," he declared with brutal frankness. "Theo isn't the type to take a stand when his 'girl' goes around flirting. He just broods and gets all offended."

"No, I know, but does _she_ know that?"

"Probably not. She is a featherhead, after all."

"Draco," said Ginny in a warning tone.

Her husband was the picture of innocence. "Yes, Ginny?"

"Shut up."

He only smirked.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Come on. We have a party to go to."

"This is going to be torture for me, I hope you know."

"Oh stop being a drama queen," retorted his wife, giving one last look in the mirror to make sure everything was in order. "You don't know if it will be bad or not. You may even be in for a pleasant surprise."

But whatever surprise Ginny had been alluding to, she was not prepared for the surprise she herself was about to receive.

**OOOO **

"Ginny!" Kitty squealed, rushing over and giving her friend a tight hug. "Oh, I'm so glad you could make it." She giggled, pulling back from Ginny slightly to give her a broad smile. "It's getting hard to hug you with this baby taking up all the room."

Lovely. Another reminder that she was getting fat. Baby or not, she was sick of it.

"Right," said Ginny with a somewhat forced smile.

Kitty's eyes flicked to Draco and a distinctly nervous smile flittered across her lips. "Oh, I didn't see you there. How nice of you to come, though I suppose Ginny made you." She gave a girlish laugh. "I know how all you men think you're above us poor females and our gatherings."

"Quite," he said shortly. "I'm sure you'll forgive me if I don't go into raptures about your party. I am, as you so delightfully described, quite above such things."

Kitty gave an uncertain smile. "R-right."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. He's just being disagreeable because I _did_ make him come. Now tell me all about your day. I see you're wearing a new dress…"

Draco watched his wife and the pretty brunette walk away discussing fashions, feeling just a little abandoned and annoyed that his wife should walk off like that without even so much as a goodbye. She was the one who had dragged him here, after all, and now it seemed she was just going to desert him to talk about ribbons and silks.

He glared at her retreating back. Well if that was how she was going to be then fine. He didn't need her anyway.

Making a quick assessment of who had gathered for Kitty's party (most of which he would not even give a common bow in passing) he finally spotted Theodore, already taken up residence in a corner for a night of brooding, and made his way over.

"Theo," he greeted, taking position against the wall, and snagging a drink from one of the caterers that had been walking by. "I see you did get invited, then."

Theodore nodded, though his expression was bitter. "Oh yes, she sent me a pretty gilded card with an equally pretty speech to go with it, but do you think that meant anything?"

"Judging by your sour expression, I would say not."

"She said hello to me. _Hello_. Nothing more, nothing less, and she hasn't spoken to me since."

"Maybe it's because you're hiding in the corner," suggested his friend unsympathetically. "You do look rather pathetic glowering at her from the shadows. I wouldn't talk to you either, if I were her—which, thank Merlin, I'm not. If you really want her to pay attention to you, you need to tell her how you feel. It's as simple as that."

Theodore groaned and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "How can I when she behaves so heartlessly towards me? She smiles and flutters her lashes over her fan for _those_ men" – he thrust out an arm towards the collection of wizards gathered – "but for me she is distant and pettish, not even able to spare me one smile. I can only come to the conclusion that she cares nothing for me."

"These tragedian airs do very well for the stage but this is real life, Theo. You need to get a grip." Draco scrunched up his expression in distaste. "Or at least get a life."

"Laugh all you want; it makes no difference to me. I have adored her since the moment I first set eyes on her. I'm in love, Draco, and nothing can change that."

Draco rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink. "You're going to make me sick one of these days with all your flowery prose."

"You don't understand," said Theodore simply.

"You're right, I don't," agreed Draco, "and nor do I want to if it means languishing in this silly way."

Theodore said nothing, merely continuing to glower at Kitty and all the other men in general.

Draco sighed and took another sip of his drink. Tonight was proving to be just as tedious as he thought it would. Ginny was seriously going to owe him for this.

Ginny, meanwhile, had been abandoned herself. Kitty had been whisked off to dance with a handsome blond, and so Ginny had waded her way through the throng of laughing and gossiping people to the refreshments table to await her friend's return.

She eyed the collection of delicacies arrayed for her pleasure and found solace in a very tasty looking truffle. Her eyes closed in quiet bliss. There was something so deliciously divine about truffles.

"Now this brings back memories," a very amused and horribly familiar voice said from close beside her.

Ginny jumped, her eyes snapping open, and there, smiling in just that same knee-weakening fashion, was Julian Adderson. She stared, her eyes widening in open surprise, and dropped the serviette in her hands, her jaw following in tow.

"Julian," she breathed, barely able to believe her eyes. What in Merlin's name was he doing back here?

"Ginny," he replied, dark blue eyes dancing with all their usual amusement. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

She nodded, too tongue-tied to do much else. It seemed he had decided to ignore the last time they had spoken. He was acting as if he were merely an old friend rather than the man who had broken her heart.

Still, she found that she was more stunned than upset to see him. He was still as handsome as ever—quite the handsomest man she had ever seen—but he seemed so empty now. She couldn't find him attractive in the same way she had used to, and her heart—which had always reacted violently upon seeing him—had barely given a flutter.

Love did not keep, it seemed; especially one as shallow as the adoring love she had held for Julian Adderson. It was somewhat comforting to know that Draco really was the only man in her heart now.

"What are you doing here?" she finally managed to ask. "I thought you were in Italy?"

"I was, but I thought it was about time I came back home." His eyes flicked over her, taking in her protruding stomach. "I see I am to wish you joy. Who is the lucky man?"

Ginny found herself blushing. "Draco Malfoy."

He gave a short laugh. "I should have known."

"What's it to you?" she retorted defensively, not liking his tone. "You're the one who left _me_, remember?"

"I make no secret of the fact that I behaved abominably towards you. I should never have left you like that, and I'm sorry for it. But really, Ginny, _Malfoy_?"

"Draco has been good to me. He loves me."

"But do you love him?"

"Yes."

Julian didn't look too pleased by this, but he managed to eventually force a smile. "Well then, I wish you joy of your husband. I wonder, however, if you'll be saying the same ten years down the track."

"Maybe, maybe not. I know our marriage isn't perfect, and nor will it ever be, but I know I'll be a darn lot more happier with him than what I would have ever been had I married _you_."

"A hit. I suppose I deserved that."

"You broke my heart," admitted Ginny, "but I'm glad you did now. It made me wake up from the foolish dream I was weaving for myself."

Julian's eyes softened as they met hers. "I am sorry, Ginny. For what it's worth, I truly did love you."

"I'm flattered."

He laughed. "You have certainly gotten more sarcastic."

"I could state the obvious but I'll spare your feelings."

He shook his head, the remnants of his laughter lingering in his smile. "Ah, Ginny, let's not let our pasts come between us. You feel disillusioned from your love for me, but surely we can still at least be friends?"

She looked at him suspiciously, but he seemed sincere enough. A frown marred her brow as she wondered if she really could be a friend of Julian Adderson's. It was true that she did not love him now, but it wasn't as if she could forget everything he had done to her either.

"I don't know if I can," said Ginny slowly.

"Am I really so much of a monster?" asked Julian, disappointed. "I admit I've done wrong, and, yes, I'm certainly not perfect, but can't you forgive me for my past mistakes and allow me to be your friend again, as I should have been?"

Ginny stared up into his handsome face. It would have been so easy to be his friend again if he had not broken her heart, but she just couldn't let it go. She knew she had enjoyed his company and charming ways, but the mere thought of being around him now made her recoil.

"Too much has happened, Julian," she sighed. "Maybe one day I will look upon you as a friend again, but right now I just don't think I could. You as good as told me that you couldn't love me because I was poor. How do you think that made me feel?"

"I can't change what I did now."

"I know, but I can't change what I feel either."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Ginny said nothing. She didn't want to hear his excuses or his apologies. She knew it was stupid to hold grudges when she didn't even love him anymore, but really, did he honestly think he could just stroll in here as if nothing had happened and expect her to forgive him in the blink of an eye?

"Well, if you ever change your mind you know where to find me," he offered, attempting to breach the awkward silence.

She nodded. "I know."

He stood there hesitantly for a moment and then gave his trademark smile. "Well, I guess that's that then. I believe our friend has finally released the birthday girl, so I shall go make myself known to her again. It seems years since I've spoken to Kitty."

Ginny nodded her head again, not really caring what he did. She just wanted him to leave her in peace.

Julian bowed his head in respectful goodbye and strolled off towards where Kitty was currently being flattered and pampered by a ring of men. His tall form and handsome face instantly forced those other men into the background, and Ginny had to admit that it was easy to see why she had fallen in love with him. He really did appear to be the embodiment of a dream, but dreams do not last, and neither did her love.

Ginny watched him tap her friend on the shoulder. Kitty turned, a question in her blue eyes, but when she saw who it was a radiant smile came to her lips and she was throwing her arms around him with a girlish shriek.

"_Julian_!" Kitty cried, drawing more than one pair of eyes towards her.

Instinctively, Ginny found herself searching for Theo. What she saw made her heart sink. He was clutching his wineglass tightly in his fingers, obviously agitated—that she could discern even from where she was standing—and seemed frozen in a state of paralysis. His eyes were locked on the hugging couple, oddly blank, but his expression could only be described as mortified.

Her eyes met Draco's across the room, who merely shrugged, and knowing that her husband would be completely useless in consoling his friend, she quickly made her way to the corner.

"Theo," she nodded, coming to stand beside her husband.

"I don't believe it," that wounded gentleman muttered, still staring as if in a trance at Kitty and Julian. "Just look at her fawning all over him."

"They're just friends, Theo. It's nothing serious."

Julian chose this inopportune moment to lean down and whisper something in Kitty's ear, sending a pool of warmth to flood the pretty brunette's cheeks. Ginny could have hexed him. He was such a flirt.

"Friends?" echoed Theo bitterly. "Her cheeks betray her."

"I'm sure it's not what you think," assured Ginny, though she had to admit that things did look pretty bleak for her brooding friend.

"If you want my advice, you should just drop the girl," said Draco dispassionately. "She's not worth all this."

"She's worth everything!" Theo growled.

"Then prove it," retorted Draco, unmoved. "If you really care about her so damn much, why are you still sitting here while that frippery flirt makes up to the woman you love?"

"I—"

"I don't want to hear your excuses," cut in Draco, quite sick of all of this now. "Either get up there and show that featherheaded bint you're not going to stand for this any longer or start looking for a new wench to love."

Ginny frowned at Draco's callousness, but it seemed to do the trick. Theo thrust his glass at Draco, his mouth thinning into a determined line. "You're right," he said. "I can't sit back any longer."

"Thank Merlin for that," responded Draco, though he didn't seem too pleased to be reduced to the drink holder, and promptly tossed the glass he had been handed in one of the large pot plants.

Theo said no more and stalked off towards his flighty love, his expression one of grim determination.

"Do you really think he'll do it?" mused Ginny, watching their friend's progress with interest.

"We'll soon find out."

**OOOO**

Kitty had been delighted upon seeing Julian again, whom she had always looked up to as an older brother of sorts, but for all that she was not immune to his charm, and nor could she help herself from blushing at his full compliments.

It was all perfectly harmless, and she had been in no danger of losing her head or thinking that Julian meant anything serious by it (she knew she was not rich enough to tempt him into anything but mild flirtation anyway) but upon catching sight of the effect it had had upon Theo, she was not against using Julian to her full advantage.

For months she had tried to inspire what she perceived as Theodore's indifferent heart with a spark of passion. She had fallen in love with him a long time ago, but apart from spending a great deal more time with him—and consequently losing all her shyness around him—he had never suggested once that he truly loved her.

She had heard Ginny swear countless times that Theodore was madly in love with her, but for Kitty that was not enough. She wanted to hear _him_ say it, and as he had had more than six months to do so—and had failed—she had grown quite tired of waiting and had decided to play the age-old-tactic of jealousy games.

Kitty had always been admired by society, being as pretty as she was charmingly stupid, and it had not taken much effort to encircle herself with a whole collection of male admirers. Of course she didn't give a fig for any of them, and many a time she found herself frustrated that all her flirtations seemed to be going to waste.

Apart from seeing Theodore glower at her from time to time, he never made any effort to take her to task or try claiming her attention himself as she had been hoping to inspire him to do. In fact, he had an annoying habit of hiding in the corners of the room, or else leaving the gatherings all together.

Really, it was all very frustrating.

Ginny had told her, of course, that Theodore was not happy with her behaviour, but Kitty wasn't sure she could trust everything her friend said, and as she was heartily sick of hearing everything through somebody else and not her brooding love's lips, it only goaded her to be even worse with her flirtations.

As such, it was no surprise that she should take some triumph in finally shaking that serious man's calm. To her it seemed she had finally pierced his cloud of reserve and sparked that passion she had been so desirous to find. She had seen his expression and now she was given the happiness of seeing him storming towards her.

In some ways she was a little frightened at his obvious dark humour, but this was what she had wanted, after all, and she was not going to back down now. Her pride would not allow her to give in that easily, anyway. She had spent too long acting indifferent towards him to the point where she would be hard-pressed to let go of the act just because he had finally decided to notice her again. Besides, she genuinely was annoyed with him.

He would have to work for her love if he still wanted her.

Kitty tilted her chin up a little defiantly when Theodore came closer and met his smouldering hazel eyes squarely. "Yes? Can I help you? If you don't mind, I am talking to Julian right now."

Theodore cast a contemptuous glance at Julian—an unwitting pawn in this game—and reverted his eyes back to Kitty's face. "Katherine," he said in a voice throbbing with emotion, "I must talk to you."

"I'm afraid I'm busy right now. Perhaps later," she responded airily, and clasped her hands on Julian's arm as she smiled up at him. "You did promise me a dance, didn't you?"

"Dammit, Kitty, I must speak with you," Theodore insisted, ignoring her words and the man whose arm she was clasping. "I will not be fobbed off any longer."

Kitty was all ready to tell him that she was not to be ordered around by the likes of him—for even though she was glad she had finally managed to disrupt his reserve, she was stubborn enough not to appreciate his demanding ways and had a rather reckless curiosity to see how far he would go to get her to submit to him—but Julian chose at this moment to ruin her carefully cultivated plans.

"I see I am only in the way here," he said with his charming smile, gently disengaging Kitty's hands from his arm. "If you'll excuse me. I must go make my compliments to your mother."

He gave a brief nod to Theodore and then walked away, leaving the fuming couple to stare at each other in silence.

"Fine," exclaimed Kitty, answering Theodore's silent appeal in anything but gratifying accents, "we can talk on the balcony."

Theodore nodded and followed her out through a curtain to the balcony. Once they were safely alone, Kitty spun around to confront him again, but instead of being greeted by any words, she found herself being pulled with ruthless determination into his arms and kissed soundly.

Taken by surprise, she made a small noise of protest and made an effort to break free, but just as quickly as the desire to fight the passionate embrace had flared up, so did it die away. The hands which had so feebly tried to push him away—for she had never tried _that_ hard to break free—now slid up his chest and wrapped around his neck, and the noise of protest became something far less innocent.

It was a while before they finally broke apart, but the somewhat ruthless kiss had apparently had the desired effect over Kitty.

She looked up at him with a shy smile, one hand smoothing down his coat lapel, and said, "I thought you wanted to talk with me?"

He gave one of his rare smiles. "I did, but I figured that would get the message across more clearly. You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that," he confided.

Her already rosy cheeks flooded with pink. "Oh?"

"Yes, my love, and now I'm going to do it again."

Kitty could find no fault with this plan, and submitted quite happily to his ministrations.

Tonight, it seemed, had not been a waste after all.

**OOOO**

"What do you think happened between Kitty and Theo?" Ginny asked, staring at the curtain where she had seen her two friends exit.

"Is that really all you can think about?" drawled her husband.

"Well you don't need to get so snobbish about it."

"I'm not being snobbish."

"Yes you are," retorted Ginny. "Whenever you get that tone in your voice you're always being snobbish."

"Well excuse me if I don't find the melodramatic love story of those two twits enthralling."

"Theo is not a twit."

"He is when he's in love," stated Draco frankly. "And I notice you omitted dear Kitty in that sentence. Does that mean you've finally accepted she's got a brain quite incapable of understanding anything but fashion and gossip?"

"Draco, darling, _do_ shut up."

"You sounded horribly like Pansy just then," observed Draco, quite unnerved.

"Good."

Having nothing to say to this, Draco fell into what he deemed a dignified silence. He caught sight of Julian and something rather like a growl escaped his lips.

"I can't believe he dared show his face here again," Draco muttered, dismissing their little tiff in light of his loathing for the unwanted guest. His eyes met Ginny's. "We can leave if you like, if it's too awkward for you."

Ginny laughed. "Oh no you don't. Don't think you're getting out of this that easily. Julian Adderson can be here all he likes. It's not like we have to talk to him."

"It doesn't bother you that he's here?" Draco asked, quite surprised.

She shook her head. "I thought it would be more painful, but it's not at all. I feel nothing for him. Still, I'd rather not speak with him. Once was more than enough."

"Good."

"Is that all you can say? _Good_?"

Draco grinned. "What did you expect? If you don't care about him then he's no threat, and therefore not worth my time."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh that's flattering."

"You know you love me."

"Git."

Draco laughed. "You're so eloquent with words, my dearest. I'm in awe of your extensive vocabulary."

Ginny snorted. "I don't need fancy words. I only need one."

"And I suppose you're going to say it suits me to a T?"

"Exactly."

"You're so predictable."

"So is your smirk."

Draco, funnily enough, smirked. "Of course. It says everything I need with no words at all."

"You're quite ridiculous," said his wife severely, though the twinkle in her eyes belied her grave tone.

"Not as ridiculous as you, love," he quipped, his own grey eyes alight with silent laughter.

Ginny chuckled. "Enough of that. I don't want to argue with you tonight."

"Now that's a first."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Draco smiled a little ruefully. "Never mind. Forget I said anything at all."

Ginny looked at him suspiciously but just in that moment Kitty and Theo came back from the balcony.

She could tell at a glance that all was well between them, for not only were Kitty's cheeks lightly flushed with a radiant glow, but the fact that Theo's hand rather possessively clasped her own spoke volumes for how much progress they had made under the stars.

Kitty spotted them and dragged Theo over, her lips stretching into a broad grin. "We're engaged!" she announced by way of greeting.

"That's wonderful," exclaimed Ginny, bestowing a proud smile on the both of them.

"Congratulations," said Draco, quite unenthused, though Ginny knew him well enough to know that he was genuinely happy for his friend, despite being a little disappointed with his friend's choice in bride.

"All thanks to you two, of course," said Theo, giving them one his small smiles. "We could not have done this without you both."

"Well I always did want to make a career of match-making," responded Draco with an admirable display of ironic enthusiasm. "I'm ever-so-delighted it all worked out."

Ginny gave him a sharp nudge in the ribs. "Quiet you. There's no point puffing off your airs here. We all know you're secretly happy for them."

Draco sighed. "You always have to ruin my fun, don't you?"

"It's alright, Ginny," said Theodore, smiling. "I know what Draco's like."

"I'm quite disheartened you all find me so easy to read," complained Draco.

"Oh yes, I'm sure you'd loved to be thought of as an enigma," chuckled Ginny.

"You're supposed to be championing me, Ginny, dearest. I am your husband."

"Rubbish. I never champion you; you should know that by now."

"I do," he lamented, "and it quite breaks my heart."

"Merlin, I wonder if we'll end up like that?" Kitty mumbled, watching Draco and Ginny with a fascinated eye.

"Draco and Ginny have always had an, er, unique relationship," explained Theodore. "I don't think we have to worry about becoming like them."

Ginny, who had heard this little exchange, turned her attention back to them. "Oh, it's all in good fun. You should see us when we really argue."

"Yes," agreed Draco with feeling, "I find myself thanking Merlin I have good quidditch reflexes. Ginny has a habit of throwing things."

"You ask for it."

"Now, Ginny, would I ever _really_ ask you to throw the breakfast toast at me?"

Her lips quivered. "You know what I meant."

"I did, of course," he admitted, "but I find it so much more amusing to take your words in a literal sense."

She couldn't help but laugh at that. "Honestly, Draco."

He only smiled, but as Ginny had always found his smile one of the most attractive things about him, she felt her legs go oddly mushy and would have kissed him right then and there had she not been aware of her surroundings.

Theodore and Kitty were too busy exchanging soppy glances of their own to pay much heed to the public display of affection going on before them, and would have continued to do so had Maria Cunningham, Kitty's mother, not intruded upon them in that moment.

The happy news was shared, and letting out a shriek that would put even Molly Weasley's exuberance to shame, Maria crushed the newly engaged couple in a hug, gushed something she-knew-not-what, and then bounded off to spread the good news to all her acquaintances.

Everyone was quite delighted, though Charlotte could hardly have said to care either way. She did not approve of Theodore's friends, and therefore did not approve of Theodore himself. However, as no one had ever paid much attention to Charlotte, her opinion made no difference to the couple's happiness.

The rest of the night was spent more on discussing Kitty's engagement rather than her birthday, but, as Kitty confessed to Ginny on parting later that night, it was the best birthday she had ever had.

Ginny smiled and once more pulled her friend into a hug. "I'm glad. I always knew he would be perfect for you."

Kitty blushed. "Do you know, I thought the day would never come that he would propose to me? All this time I've been waiting and waiting for him to tell me how he felt, thinking that maybe he was indifferent or didn't love me after all, and then finally tonight he confesses everything."

"What was his excuse?"

"He was scared that _I_ was indifferent."

Ginny laughed. "It seems you both were going in circles around each other."

"Yes, but everything is sorted now, and soon I will be Mrs Nott." She smiled. "And to think, I used to absolutely be terrified of him."

"It's quite ironic how things change, isn't it?" mused Ginny, thinking of her own shift from loathing to love in regards to Draco. "I suppose it's true what they say; you really don't choose who you fall in love with."

"I guess not."

Draco finished saying goodbye to Theodore and turned to his wife. "Ready to go?"

She nodded and smiled back at Kitty. "It was a lovely evening, and—Oh, I don't think I ever wished you happy birthday."

Kitty laughed. "Well, a lot has been going on, but thank you."

"You're welcome."

Draco nodded politely to her. "Katherine."

"Draco," Kitty responded, nodding back.

Ginny gave one last smile and then followed her husband to the disapparation point. They disapparated together and reappeared in the living room of their home, and—to both of their great surprise—were greeted by Narcissa Malfoy appearing right before their eyes, tears streaking down her ghostly pale cheeks.

"Oh, Draco," Narcissa exclaimed with an odd little sob, casting herself on her son. Draco instinctively wrapped his arms around her, though his expression was rather dazed. It seemed he was still too stunned to fully fathom that his mother was actually in his arms crying.

Ginny stared at her mother-in-law with sickening dread. She had never seen the composed woman cry before, and the sight was as unnerving as it was terrifying. What could possibly have happened that could cause Narcissa Malfoy, the paragon of calm control itself, to break so openly?

"What's happened, Mother?" Draco asked with forced calm, though Ginny could see the fear in his eyes.

"It's Lucius," sobbed Narcissa. "Oh, Draco, your father has had another stroke."

**A/N: I'm evil, I know, but don't you just **_**love**_** cliff-hangers?**

**Well, my darling readers, the next chapter, as I have already stated, will be the last. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even if there was a lot going on in so small amount of words. I couldn't help that, though, as I did decide to cut quite a deal to make it all fit in one chapter.**

**I also apologise if there are any typos. I've been frankly exhausted today, so much in fact that I couldn't do my assignments like I should have. You should be happy, though, as it did mean I finished this chapter sooner than I expected—I guess that will be my compensation for you if there are any typos.**


	29. Full Circle

**Disclaimer:** **All that you recognise belongs to JKR.**

**A/N: It's the last chapter! Hurrah!**

**Full Circle**

"_It's Lucius," sobbed Narcissa. "Oh, Draco, your father has had another stroke."_

The world seemed to stop in that moment. Draco stared at his mother, his arms automatically dropping from her as he took an involuntarily step back. Her words kept echoing again and again in his mind, but it just didn't seem real. This could not be real. Things like this were not supposed to happen. Not now. Not again.

"Draco?"

That was Ginny. She was touching his arm, her eyes searching his with open concern. He could barely feel her touch. He could barely grasp anything in that moment. All he could think was that his father had had a stroke. His father might be dying. Merlin, he might already be dead.

Draco swallowed, hoping to dislodge the ball of suppressed emotion that was constricting his throat. "Father?" His voice sounded hoarse, almost foreign to his own ears. His eyes, wild and grey just like the storm clouds they so strangely resembled, searched his mother's tear-filled ones. "He's not—he's not—"

"He's not dead," whispered Narcissa.

Draco let out a sigh of relief. "Where is he?" he asked more calmly.

"At home. As soon as I realised what was happening I flooed Healer Perkins, but I—"

"What?" demanded Draco, alarmed at how distressed his mother was getting.

Narcissa shook her head, fresh tears spilling from her eyes. "I can't bear it. I can't bear seeing him like that." Her body shuddered, as if it were trying its best to stay together but all the emotion inside her was putting too much pressure on the already strained seams. "I don't want him to die."

This was said so helplessly and with such a broken expression that Ginny rushed over and wrapped her arms around the trembling woman.

"Don't give up, Narcissa," said Ginny fiercely. "Lucius is strong. He'll pull through this yet; you'll see."

"The healers don't think he will make it through the night."

"Well they're wrong," retorted Ginny, a fiery glint glowing in her eyes. "I don't care what any stupid healer says; he's not going to die."

Draco frowned at his wife. As much as he wanted to believe her words to be true, he remembered all too clearly the last time his father had had a stroke. The man he had looked up to and admired had been reduced to something barely unrecognisable. Even then the healers had confessed that his father was lucky to have made it through the stroke alive. Now it was happening again, and even though Draco knew his father was a stubborn old hippogriff, he was not a god. Even Lucius could not stop the thread that bound him to this world from being cut.

"Can we see him?" Draco asked, turning his attention back to his mother.

Narcissa nodded. "I don't see why not. The healers should be finished giving him the potions."

She wiped her tears and stood up straight, obviously trying to regain her composure. It was a pitiful sight, for though she was desperately trying to re-plaster the marble-like impassivity that characterised her, the cracks of emotion still seeped through to spoil the effect.

"We should go now," she said, voice brisk. "We don't know how much longer he will last."

"Mother—"

"I'll be fine, Draco," interposed Narcissa, if a little shakily. "Just—just let me deal with this in my own way."

He stared at her for a moment, taking in her red-rimmed eyes and the crumbling mask of control she was trying so hard to maintain. Slowly he nodded. "Okay."

Narcissa thanked him silently with her eyes and then pulled out her wand. "I'll let the healers know you're coming."

Draco gave a quick nod and watched as she disapparated with a small pop. For a moment he just stood there staring at the spot where she had vanished, his brain still reeling after everything he had heard.

It was strange to think that only twenty minutes ago he had been congratulating Theo on his engagement to Kitty, his life comfortably carefree, and now here he was dealing with the knowledge that his father may or may not live to see another day.

Irony is what they called it. Well, it certainly was ironic that while he had been sipping champagne and playfully bantering with his wife, his father had been suffering a painful stroke.

Draco decided he didn't like irony. It wasn't really all that funny. Quite overrated, if you asked him.

Ginny walked over to him and closed her hand over his in a warm grasp. "You okay?" she asked quietly, looking up at him through worried eyes.

"I don't know," he confessed, glancing down to meet her enquiring gaze. "I don't know what I feel right now."

He had thought he would be more upset than this. His mother had been in tears, and yet he couldn't force one little drop of emotion out. It was like his brain still hadn't fully fathomed what was actually happening, almost as if it were denying the veracity of his mother's words, even though Draco was well aware that she had been speaking the truth.

It was just so hard to believe. Of course they had all known that Lucius' health had been rather precarious after the first stroke, and Draco had also known that it was possible his father would not last the year, but in a way he had never truly believed his father was critically ill. Fathers were meant to be invincible; it just wasn't fathomable to Draco that now there was a very real possibility he might never hear his father curse him for his impudence or threaten him with that infernal cane again.

A cold feeling crept over him. What if his father really didn't make it?

Ginny squeezed his hand reassuringly, as if sensing his thoughts. "Everything will be fine, Draco. Your father isn't going to die."

Draco said nothing. He didn't want to let her see how truly afraid he was right now.

"Come on," she said, changing the subject. "We should get to the manor."

He nodded. "You're right."

In silence they disapparated to the manor, and it was in silence that they listened to Healer Perkins discuss Lucius' situation. The chances of the elder Malfoy making it through the night did indeed look grim, but Ginny remained confident in her conviction that he would pull through. Draco, however, had to wonder if she too was clinging to denial. She certainly looked paler now that they were no longer in the cheery brightness of their own home, and there was a strained look in her eyes that had not been there before.

The gloomy wealth that adorned the manor was a setting that could have easily fit in a Gothic novel. It was not difficult to believe that death could happen inside its historic walls. It seemed even his wife's optimism was not immune to the sombre tone of the mansion.

"I'm afraid there is nothing more I can do," explained the healer. "The potions can help him deal with the pain, but his heart his weak, and his brain has suffered severely. If he does live he will never walk again. It's a miracle he can still talk."

"Can we see him?" Ginny asked, hand gripping Draco's tightly.

Healer Perkins gave her a grim smile. "I'm afraid you will find him much altered, but yes, you may see him."

"My mother?" queried Draco.

"Already in the room. She has been waiting for you."

Draco nodded. "Of course. Thank you."

"I'm sorry I could not do more," said Healer Perkins, real regret lacing his words. "Medicine can only take us so far, but now I'm afraid it is in God's hands."

"You did your best," said Ginny. "That's all that matters."

Perkins nodded, excused himself, and once again Ginny and Draco found themselves alone.

The time of denial was up. They now had no choice but to face the truth.

"Ready?" Ginny asked, still gripping his hand, as she stared at the ominous old door.

It was a strange sense of déjà vu. When she had first stood outside this room she had gripped her husband's hand just as tightly, afraid of what was going to greet her eyes on the other side. Now her fear was channelled by different emotions—something far softer and meaningful—for Ginny had come to realise that she loved Lucius. To lose him now would be no different than the pain she would feel should she lose a member of her own family.

Draco's hand tightened around hers. It was hard to know who was seeking comfort from whom in that moment. Their eyes met, inexpressible fear and sympathy finding voice in the silent seconds, and then Draco reached out to open the heavy door, releasing her hand as he held the door open for her so that she could enter his father's bedroom.

It was brightly lit, the complete opposite to the dim, gloomy rooms so often described in novels, but the overall lightness of the room only served to emphasise how pale the man in the bed looked. His skin was like death itself, a stark contrast to the painfully dark shadows that had been etched deep under his eyes; eyes that no longer held their old sharpness, but were tired and battle-worn.

To Ginny it was clear he was, or at least had been, in a great deal of pain.

Narcissa had been sitting close to Lucius, but upon their entering she stood up from her chair and walked over to them. Her face looked almost as pale as her husband's, but her expression was controlled enough. It seemed she had shed her tears and would shed no more.

"How is he?" Draco asked, casting his eyes towards the sickly man in the bed.

"You can ask him yourself," replied Narcissa. "I think he's been waiting for you."

Draco nodded and then walked past the two women to take the now unoccupied seat by his father's bedside. Seeing his father's haggard face up close was quite a shock, but he managed to offer a rather strained smile all the same. "Father," he greeted.

Lucius' dull eyes lit up when he saw his son and he even managed to assume an expression of cool hauteur. "You're going to make me sick with these pathetic looks you're all giving me. I'm not dead yet, so you can stop giving me those long faces."

"Perhaps you should look in a mirror, Father," responded Draco, unable to repress a smile. "Your face is the longest one here."

"I'll have none of that cheek, boy!" retorted Lucius, though his eyes were soft with emotion.

Draco understood. His father had never enjoyed sentimentality, but they were both well aware that tonight might be the last time they would see each other. Though Lucius could not tell his son explicitly how much he loved him, nor could he even show it in the accepted forms, the words were spoken clearly enough.

_I love you. I have always loved you. You are my son, and I am proud of what you have become._

The words flowed through Draco's blood, whispering their silent message in a voice that was as piercing as it was gentle; imprinting themselves deep in his heart to echo forever more in the steady beats.

It was in that moment that Draco realised the full extent of his own love for his father. This man had been a figure of fear and admiration to him as a child, an idol to be worshipped. Things had changed as he grew older, of course—the fear lessened, the worshipful admiration replacing with dutiful respect—but still he had always loved his father as a son only could. Now, however, Draco realised it was so much more than that. He didn't just love his father: he _loved_ his father, and to lose him now would be to lose the very rock that had founded his world.

Swallowing against the sudden tightness in his throat, Draco reached out and took his father's hand in his, his grey eyes oddly bright. "You're going to get through this, Father," he croaked out, still fighting against the emotion that was threatening to overwhelm him. "You're going to get better, and then in three months you'll be holding your grandchild in your arms just like you always wanted. It'll all work out, you'll see. You're going to get better…"

He was rambling, and he knew it, but it was so much easier to fall back on denial and secret hopes than it was to face the sad truth that stared at him from his father's eyes. He couldn't face that silent goodbye. Not now. Not like this.

Lucius' long fingers closed around his son's hand. "Draco."

The word almost came out as a sigh.

A small sniff came from the other side of the room, and both men turned to see Ginny wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Come here, girl," Lucius commanded, releasing his son's hand as he straightened up in the bed.

Ginny walked over to the bed, still sniffling, and stood before her father-in-law.

"Closer."

She stepped closer.

Lucius leaned forward, and—to the surprise of everyone in the room—placed his cheek against her stomach.

"Ah," he said softly, eyes closing.

For a moment there was silence. Draco watched Lucius in awed silence and was surprised to see something wet trail down his father's pale cheek. A tear; the first tear he had ever witnessed his father shed. It was painful to watch—painful and touching all in one.

"My little one," murmured Lucius, a slight smile curling his lips. His eyes were still closed, but there was a sad sort of satisfaction in his expression.

Ginny had to bite down on her lip to stop the sob from escaping her lips. She couldn't bear this. She couldn't bear watching her father-in-law try connect with the grandchild she knew he probably would never see, knowing that that was all he had wanted.

It just wasn't fair. All of this had been for him: the marriage, the grandchild—it was all for him, but now there was a chance he would never get to see what he had wanted most of all.

She could remember the expression that had come to Lucius' face when he had discovered she was pregnant. He had been so happy, so open, and now that happiness was being snatched away from him. It just wasn't fair.

He only needed three months. Just three months. Could fate really be so cruel as to steal him now when his dream was so close to becoming real?

Lucius pulled back from her and met her tearful gaze steadily—all traces of tears gone from his own. "Thank you, Ginevra."

Ginny shook her head, tears spilling freely from her eyes. She knew what he had meant with those two words. It was the sign of surrender, an ambiguous way of saying that clichéd saying so often repeated by people on their deathbeds.

_Now I can die in peace._

"There's still hope yet," whispered Ginny, her eyes begging him to keep fighting.

A ghost of the old smirk tugged at her father-in-law's lips. "You should know that a Malfoy never gives up, Ginevra. Just think of this as my safety net." His eyes shifted to rest on his son and Narcissa—both of whom were trying hard to restrain their tears—and his expression softened. "I don't plan on dying yet," he murmured more to himself. "Not if I can help it."

And though it was a small promise and one she knew he had no power to keep, it was enough to keep her hope alive.

He would fight.

**OOO**

Draco closed the door softly behind him and walked over to the couch where his wife was half dozing. She stirred at the sound of his footsteps and hauled herself into a sitting position.

"What's the time?" she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"3:00 a.m."

"Lucius?"

"Sleeping."

"And?"

Draco sighed. "It's too early to say."

Ginny nodded, as if expecting this. "Is Narcissa still with him?"

"Yes. She refuses to leave his side. I told her to get some sleep and that I would watch over him but she said she doesn't want to lose any time with him—if this is all she has then she's going to make the most of it."

Ginny could understand that. If it were Draco that was dying, she wouldn't want to lose any time with him either. She would want to treasure every last second. Even if it hurt her, she would stay by his side, waiting for that moment when his heart would stop and there was nothing left to love but a memory.

But for Narcissa it didn't have to be this way. Lucius did not have to become a memory.

This wasn't the end. It just couldn't be. Ginny refused to accept that all of their efforts, all of their struggles, had been building up to this—this ending of empty promises and unsatisfied dreams.

"He's going to make it."

Draco stared at her. "What?"

"He's going to make it," repeated Ginny. "I _know_ he will."

"Ginny…"

She shook her head. "I know what you're going to say—that reality doesn't have happy endings and not everything works out how we want it, but it _can_, Draco, I know it can."

"He's dying, Ginny. You must see that."

"But he's not dead."

She sat forward suddenly and gripped his hands tightly in her own, her eyes earnestly searching his. "Didn't your mother ever tell you that if you wished for something hard enough it would come true?"

"No."

"Well mine did, and right now I want to believe that. Your father is trying his best, Draco, he's fighting so hard to stay alive, but maybe we need to fight for him too? It's corny, I know, but what if it worked? I'm not asking much—it's not like we're trying to move mountains here—but surely it's worth trying a bit of faith if it means getting a miracle of our own?"

For a moment Draco just stared at her, and then slowly a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "That has got to be the corniest speech you've ever given… but I guess it's worth a shot."

If it meant prolonging the inevitable, if it meant not saying goodbye to his father when there was still so much to say, then he knew he had to try. He would try her _faith. _

Maybe reality wasn't always kind, and maybe happy endings didn't always happen the way one wanted them too, but for all that he saw now that one simple question still remained:

_What if?_

**OOOO **

Shadows had come and faded; symbols of time shifting along the four walls that housed the young couple, slowly ticking down to that crucial moment when all would be decided. Words had long been abandoned, the occupants too caught up in the hopeful but anxious thoughts of their minds to express anything more than unspoken reassurance. They just waited—waited and hoped.

The door opened. Narcissa entered the room and stood before them, tears sparkling on her pale cheeks. Draco stood up immediately, his eyes fixed on his mother's face with painful enquiry.

For a moment there was silence, no one quite daring to speak, and then Narcissa did something incredible. She smiled.

"Yes!" exclaimed Ginny, crying and laughing in one as she rushed forward and pulled her mother-in-law into a tight embrace. "Oh, thank Merlin he's okay!"

Narcissa pulled back. "He's still very weak, and he probably will never walk again, but the healers believe he's past the worst of it." She turned her gaze to Draco, the soft smile still lingering in her eyes. "I believe your father will be with us for a while yet."

Draco met his mother's gaze, a smile of his own tugging at the corners of his mouth. No words were exchanged, but the relief and happiness was still there flowing through the silent gaze they shared.

Today there would be no goodbyes, just as it always should have been.

**OOOO**

Some months had passed, and though Lucius had never truly recovered from that second stroke, he had managed to find his feet back in the world again as the tyrant of the family—only now he had competition.

Time had seen Ginny's stomach grow larger, and with that had come the ever-increasing volatility of her temper. All who knew the young mother-to-be privately began to call her the tyrant. Ron usually added 'fat' to that description, but after being hit by a bat-bogey hex from his loving sister—who had unfortunately overheard—he wisely chose to keep his mouth shut from that point on to save his own skin.

Even Draco felt like he was walking on eggshells around his wife. There were times where she was the most loving of all females, but then there were times where he thanked Merlin for his quidditch reflexes. She was disconcertingly quick with those hexes, not to mention the habit she had picked up of throwing at him whatever was handy to her hands at the time.

Still, they were happy together. It was a struggle, there was no doubt about it, but he still loved her as he only could, just as she still loved him. He just wished she would channel her frustration somewhere else. He was not so heartless that he could not appreciate her situation—indeed, her ailments had become old friends to his ears—but that did not mean it was his fault. Okay, so technically it _was_ his fault, but still…

He glanced towards his wife. She was reclining on the sofa, one hand resting on her swollen stomach, with her long hair cascading around her. One pale shoulder peeped out from where her dress had slipped down her arm, and for a moment he was struck with how beautiful she looked.

There was something so natural about her beauty. Being pregnant had only heightened that, and it was all the more emphasised in the way she was resting right now. She looked like she should be posing for an artist trying to capture the divine essence of motherhood.

"Is there something on my face?" Ginny asked, a slight frown creasing her brow.

He laughed lightly. "No. I was just thinking how beautiful you look right now."

Ginny let out an inelegant snort. "_Please_, I'm a waddling penguin with a belly the size of Hagrid. There's nothing 'beautiful' about me."

"If you say so."

"You're not supposed to agree," she retorted with a scowl.

"But you don't like it when I lavish you with compliments either," returned her husband. "You're becoming very difficult to please, I hope you know."

"That's because I just want this baby out of me," huffed Ginny, glaring down at her stomach. "I'm overdue by three days."

"Don't stress. The baby will come when he's ready to."

"Easy for you to say," muttered his wife with another mutinous scowl. "You're not the one dealing with all of this, and this is only the easy stuff. The birth is going to be ten hundred times worse!"

Draco stood up from his seat and knelt down before, reaching up a hand to smooth back her hair; his hand lingering just a moment longer on her cheek. "You'll be fine," he murmured, meeting her eyes with a reassuring smile. "It's not like the old days. They have plenty of charms to numb the pain."

"I know, but still—" Ginny froze, her eyes widening.

"What?" exclaimed Draco, alarmed. "What's the matter?"

"I—" She screwed up her face in pain. "I think I'm having contractions."

"But you've had them before, right?"

Ginny shook her head. "Not like this. I think—I think these are real ones."

Draco's face went rather pale. "Okay. Um, just relax and I'll—I'll go floo Mother."

He stood up quickly, nerves tingling through his body as he went to the fireplace and grabbed the floo powder. It was really happening. The baby was coming, but good Merlin he didn't have a clue what he was doing!

Despite all these weeks of trying to soothe his wife's fears he now felt just like the twenty-one year old man that he was: young, inexperienced and hopelessly inadequate when it came to dealing with a pregnant woman about to give birth.

The flames glowed bright green from the powder, Draco called out the address of the manor, and then he suddenly found himself greeted by his mother's startled face.

"Draco?" exclaimed Narcissa. "Whatever is the matter?"

"It's Ginny. She thinks she's having contractions."

"I'll be over in a minute," responded Narcissa, standing up. "Just let me get my things ready."

Draco nodded. "Alright, I'll just tell—" He broke off, frowning.

"What?" demanded Narcissa, eyeing her son's pallor with a worried frown.

"Ginny says her water just broke."

Narcissa's eyes widened. "Very well. I'll floo Healer Perkins. You'd better tell her family too. I expect they'll want to know."

"Right."

Five hours later Ginny was shut up in the bedroom with the healer and his assistant, Molly, Narcissa and Fleur. Though Draco had been invited to stay in the room as well, he had found it all rather awkward and had decided to wait outside with the men.

There was a rather large collection.

Arthur, Ron, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George were all waiting, pale faced, on one side of the room, while his own father sat impatiently on the other. Draco himself had spent most of the time pacing up and down outside the door, too nervous to sit or even talk to his family.

His wife was in labour right now. There was no saying how long it would take—Draco had heard it sometimes carried right on to the next day—but that she was truly in labour was well established. It had all happened very quickly, taking everyone by surprise, and now all they could do was wait.

Draco hated waiting.

Just in that moment three loud cracks resounded in the room. Everyone jumped—even Lucius—and all turned to see Abraxias, Desiree and Armande Malfoy appear out of thin air.

"We are not too late?" asked Desiree in her thick French accent. "The baby has not yet come?"

Draco's face cracked into a smile. "No, Tante, you're not too late."

"_Voyons_. I am pleased," said Desiree, and promptly entered the room to join the rest of the women.

Abraxias clapped a hand on his nephew's back, a broad smile on his face, and then made his way over to Lucius. The brothers quickly fell into discussion, apparently happy to put their differences aside for such a momentous occasion.

"Wow, so you're really going to be a dad," mused Armande, coming to stand next to Draco.

"I know."

Draco couldn't quite believe it himself. It all seemed so surreal right now.

"Scared?"

"What do you think?"

Armande laughed. "True."

A frown creased Draco's brow as he realised that one member of their family was missing. "Where's Alexia?"

A snigger escaped his cousin's lips. "Alexia has gone and eloped. I believe she would be on her honeymoon right now."

"_What_? With who?"

"Zacharias Smith."

Draco's jaw dropped. "Smith? That Hufflepuff? How on earth did _that_ happen?"

"He was visiting some friends in France and their paths happened to cross. Apparently it was love at first sneer."

"I can readily believe that," laughed Draco, thinking of his cousin's snobbish nature and the obnoxious hauteur that characterised the ex-Hufflepuff. Still, it was amazing to think that Alexia had run off with _him_ of all people.

"Dad seems rather pleased by it all," Armande continued. "The Smiths are a well-respected pureblood family, and of course he always wanted Lexy to marry an Englishman."

"And Tante?"

"She wasn't very happy at first, but once she got the letter from Lexy explaining everything she settled down."

"Well as long as Alexia is happy, right?"

Armande sniggered. "You're just saying that because now you know she's no longer going to fawn all over you."

Draco gave a small smile, but before he could make a retort the door to the bedroom opened, effectively stopping all further conversation.

He turned, watching with a pounding heart as his mother walked towards him. This was it. This was the moment he had been anticipating for nine long months.

Narcissa smiled. "Congratulations, Draco, you have a son."

The room erupted with cheers and congratulations, though Lucius refused to demean himself by acting so exuberantly. Draco was a bit too stunned to do anything, and only started functioning properly again when his cousin gave him a jolly slap on the back.

"Can I see him?" asked Draco.

"Of course," laughed Narcissa. "Come. They're all waiting for you."

Draco sucked in a deep breath and followed his mother into the bedroom. Molly, Fleur and Desiree were all talking in delighted voices, the healer and his helper writing something down on their clipboards, but Draco ignored all of this; his eyes instantly going towards the bed where his exhausted but satisfied wife lay with a small bundle cradled in her arms.

Ginny smiled up at him, tears of joy clinging to her lashes. "We have a son, Draco. You're now a father."

"A father," Draco repeated, still trying to get used to the foreign thought.

"Come hold him," encouraged Ginny.

As if in a trance Draco made his way over to the bed and took the small bundle Ginny was offering to him, making sure to hold it just as she advised. He stared down into the layers of cloth and found himself meeting the tiny blue eyes, just faintly bordering grey, of his newborn son.

His son.

Every time he thought the words a swell of happiness would balloon inside him. This was his son; this tiny, helpless baby resting in his arms was his son. If there really were such things as miracles in this world, surely this creation of life, this newborn baby was just such a miracle.

"He likes you," observed Ginny, delighted at seeing her husband and child connect so easily.

Draco glanced up, meeting his wife's broad smile with an equally broad one of his own. He couldn't help it. He was holding his son—_their _son.

"He's amazing," said Draco in awe, turning his gaze back to the newborn baby.

It was so tiny, with a little red face and a rather screwed up expression, but this was to be expected. Still, for all that it followed the usual norms of newborn babies, there was no denying the love Draco already felt for the baby boy. It was a part of him, just as much as it was a part of his wife.

"You two look good together," remarked Narcissa, watching the whole scene with an appreciative smile.

"Wait, where's Lucius?" demanded Ginny, peering around the room for her father-in-law.

"Right here," said Lucius, breaking a path through the crowd hovering at the door as he was wheeled into the room by his nephew.

Draco walked forward and carefully handed the newborn over to Lucius. "Congratulations, Father," he said gently. "You're now a grandfather."

Lucius cradled the boy in his arms with surprising tenderness, his eyes shining with an emotion rarely seen on one so reserved. It was a touching moment for all who were allowed to witness, but for Ginny it was like seeing a dream finally fulfilled.

For three months she had feared for her father-in-law, knowing that any day he could succumb to the weakness of his body and pass on before he got the chance to see his grandchild. Now, however, the moment had finally come, and here Lucius sat, wheelchair and all, finally holding his newly born grandchild in his arms.

"My little one," murmured Lucius, echoing the sentiment from a time long past. His eyes flicked towards his daughter-in-law. "Do you have a name for him?"

"I did have one—if you don't mind that is," replied Ginny.

"And what is that."

"Lucius Orion Malfoy."

For the first time Lucius seemed truly stunned, though he made a show of trying to cover it with his usual smooth control. "You would name your son after me? Your firstborn son?"

"It seemed fitting, but if you don't like it I'll change it."

Lucius seemed even more surprised by this disclosure, but all who knew him well enough could see that he was touched by this gesture. True to form, however, his reply was hardly complimentary.

"Well, if he has my name he'd better make sure he lives up to it. I'm not having any namby-pamby grandson ruining my legacy by following the Weasley half that runs through his blood."

The Weasleys (and even some of the Malfoys) exchanged glances at this, but Ginny only laughed. "I'll try not to let him become too Weasley for you."

Lucius smirked. "That's my girl."

Narcissa rolled her eyes. Her husband would never change.

"So his name is Lucius Orion Malfoy, then?" asked Draco, turning his gaze to his wife.

"That's what I want," said Ginny decisively. "Why? Do you want something different?"

Draco shook his head.

Though he had never been one for hallmark moments and what he deemed the corny gesture of naming one's child after a person in one's life as a sentimental tribute, he understood why Ginny had done it.

She was right. It was fitting to name their baby Lucius, for without Draco's father the little boy would never have come to be. Lucius was the one who had demanded Draco marry, just as he was the one who had wanted the grandchild as soon as possible. All of this might never have happened at all had Lucius not first pushed his son into that marriage of convenience.

More than that, though, Draco knew that ever since the second stroke Ginny had discovered a deeper bond with her father-in-law. If this was how she wished to express that then he was not going to stand in her way.

"Lucius it is," he agreed.

The healers interrupted then to say that both the baby and his mother needed rest. All who had agglomerated into the room reluctantly filed out, retiring to one of the sitting rooms to discuss the day's proceedings.

It was a strange sight to behold. Never had the Weasleys and Malfoys been on such genuinely good terms with the other, and, as Draco watched his family—both extended and close—smiling and laughing as they discussed the new addition to their large circle, he couldn't help but give his own small smile at the effect his newly born son was having on the normally hostile group.

This was a new beginning for everyone, more especially for the newly made parents themselves. No longer were they simply a married couple; they had become a family.

Their journey in the realm of parenthood had only just begun, and though Draco knew it was going to be difficult, and probably filled with many tears and tantrums from all parties involved, he also knew that he wouldn't miss this opportunity for anything.

It was a new adventure, one that was just as daunting as his last, but for all that he knew it would be a good one.

Draco smiled to himself as he thought of little Lucius.

Yes, it would be a good one.

**OOOO **

It was another sunny day, just like it had been every other year. The field was empty, apart from the usual marble stones that broke the endless sea of green, but this did not trouble the couple currently making their way up through the grass. Indeed, the woman was more concerned with the wandering behaviour of her small child.

"Don't go too far, Lucius!" the woman called out, chestnut eyes becoming rather anxious as she followed the small figure moving beyond her reach.

"He's alright," said her husband, tightening his hold around her waist. "Just leave him."

She seemed to hesitate, but then she let a small sigh of surrender and nodded. "Fine, but you'll be the one to take the blame if he gets up to any mischief."

"Aren't I always?"

She rolled her eyes at that, though a small smile tugged at her lips, and dragged him forward towards the further regions of the field. Finally the couple came to a halt, their eyes falling on the marble stone that drew them to this place every year.

"There he is," murmured the woman, stepping away from her husband to kneel on the ground. She reached out and touched the cold stone, a somewhat sad smile pulling at her lips.

"Here," said her husband, handing her the bouquet of flowers.

"Thank you."

The woman placed the flowers tenderly at the foot of the stone and stood back up. Her husband wrapped his arm around her waist, his grey eyes also staring at the simple, white stone.

They stood like that for a few minutes, neither saying a word, and then as if a silent agreement had been made, both turned away.

"Lucius!" the woman called across the field to where her son was playing. "Come on, honey, we're going home now."

The little boy, adorable with his strawberry blond hair and chocolate brown eyes, came rushing towards them in dutiful obedience. "Are we going already?" he exclaimed.

She nodded.

"Okay then," sighed Lucius, taking her hand.

The little trio moved away from the stone, a stone no different from any of the others in the field except for the inscription that had been engraved:

_IN_

_LOVING MEMORY OF_

_LUCIUS ABRAXAS MALFOY_

_1954-2001_

_All our thoughts are with you forever  
'Till the day we'll be back together_

**oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo**

**A/N: WOW! I can't believe it's the end.**

**Seriously, I want to give a HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed. You have all been amazing! I could not have finished this without all your support, and I really do mean that. There have been many times where I have wanted to give up on this story, but all yours reviews made me realise that I couldn't just abandon it, so thank you!**

**I should also make a note that the little epitaph at the end is actually lyrics taken from Within Temptation's **_**Bittersweet**_**—the song, coincidentally enough, that I used to write most of this chapter. **

**Again, thank you for the support, and for those of you too shy or lazy to review, I hope you enjoyed the fic! **


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